Watching Them Dance
by allie34
Summary: Observations are made of Janeway and Chakotay following their return to Earth. Companion to the story: 'There are little things which go unnoticed'. Complete.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: Voyager and its characters are not mine.

**Watching Them Dance**

Summary:

Observations are made of Janeway and Chakotay following their return to Earth. Companion to the story: 'There are little things which go unnoticed'.

Author's note:

A few years ago I wrote a one off: "There are little things which go unnoticed". Since then I have been unable to help myself writing small additions to it as I explore what could have followed. A few months ago (prompted by a couple of late reviews), I decided to pull the story together, and it has continued to grow...

This is published as a separate story, as I did not want to spoil the one-off which was left purposefully open ended. You will read from this first chapter, this goes in a very definite direction. As usual, I have written Janeway and Chakotay as broken characters, so please be prepared for a dark twist on a J/C love story.

**Part 1: Their Crew  
**

**Chapter 1: B'Elanna Torres**

"I've missed you."

At hearing Chakotay's voice my head snaps in the direction from which it came. To my surprise I see that Admiral Janeway is no longer dancing with her husband, but her former first officer.

I watch as she shoots Chakotay a small smile and a short nod, as if to communicate she feels the same way, but all too quickly her smile fades and she glances away from him; as if ashamed by her non-confession.

I would interrupt them and say hi to my old friend, but I don't. Although I haven't seen Chakotay in over eight months, there's something about the couple dancing beside me which tells me to leave them alone.

Perhaps it's his hand, which is dangerously far down her lower back, or their close proximity which screams at a seductive hold. Maybe it's because of the way their eyes lock on to one another, as if no one else exists in this hall except them. Or it could be the elegance and grace with which they move, as if they are completely in tune with one another, and any interruption would break their delicate balance. So I keep my distance, reluctant to become a part of a moment which so obviously belongs to the two of them.

I shouldn't stare, I should be embarrassed by doing so, but I'm not: I'm mesmerised watching them dance. I've never seen them like this before. To be honest I've never seen them dance before. I've never seen such unrestrained passionate looks pass between two people, so much silent communication take place with a mere glance.

Chakotay must make a joke, as I see Kathryn playfully tap his chest, and then I see another thing for the first time: Chakotay return a touch she teased him with. He covers her hand with his own, his finger tips glide slowly over the back of her hand before he entwines their fingers. Kathryn twists her hand in his so they are palm to palm, and then they reach their hands outwards, to return to a more formal dance hold. The movement takes place for no more than a few seconds, but the meaning behind the action is much longer lasting.

"B'Elanna I'm right here."

The idiot I'm dancing with interrupts me and I shoot him an annoyed expression, "I know..."

"Look at me," he insists just as my head starts to turn back.

"... it's just..."

"You've never seen them like this have you?"

Now he does have my attention, "no," I say uncertainly, my eyes focussing on my husband now.

He sighs and shrugs, "just don't look B'Elanna, give them this moment to themselves."

I frown, it's unlike Tom to be so respectful of a couple's privacy. "Do you know something I don't?"

Tom smirks a little. The boyish grin I normally love, right now only frustrates me. "I don't _know_ anything you don't," he assures me. Then his grin fades a little, "but I suppose I've noticed some things you haven't."

"Why would that be?" I eye him suspiciously.

"On Voyager, you were always locked down in engineering... being on the bridge, we were privy to see a more private side to them on occasion." Tom looks reminiscent, as he thinks back to the days we spent on Voyager; it was a tough time, but some of them were the best days of our lives.

I'm confused. "I don't understand."

He smiles gently. Tom knows something that I don't but he's not flaunting it, he's not trying to torture me with it, I think he's just reluctant to say it out loud. "They're in love B'Elanna," his voice is so soft he could almost be whispering, but his smile is so vibrant that he's basking in the knowledge. He braves a glance in their direction, and as he looks across at them a sadness starts to cloud his eyes.

I would tell him he's being ridiculous, but I don't. Somehow I know it's the truth as if I've never known otherwise. Of course I knew they cared deeply for one another on Voyager; they're friends, but the type of love I know Tom is talking about... I thought they had lost the chance at years ago. Now, I see that whatever had been smouldering between them before, has been sparked.

Chakotay's soft spot for the Captain wasn't a secret on the ship. The way I sometimes caught him looking at her and how he was so protective and supportive of her, it didn't take much to know how he felt. There was an undeniable sexual tension between them, but I had always put it down to the closeness of their friendship, and a determination to not confuse their friendship and command with physical intimacy. Perhaps earlier on there had been speculation amongst the crew, but as time went on, and nothing became of it, the rumours moved on to more tangible topics. After all, if they were going to start sleeping with each other they would have done it already.

There was no denying they cared for one another deeply though. On Voyager it was evident for all to see, but they had always been so professional in front of the crew, and their friendship was so solid that I wasn't sure their feelings could run deeper. However, this couple dancing only feet away from us are not Voyager's commanding officers, they're two people who have known one another for almost eight years, who denied their feelings for nearly as long, and are now very much love.

I now start to understand the sad look in my husband's eyes, and this time when I look over, I see it entrenched in the faces of the couple only feet away from us... I don't think they knew how much they loved one another until they had parted ways and moved on, and then it was too late to do anything about it.

I think back to those first few weeks following our return to Earth, and I recall a distinct distance between them. At the time I hadn't thought much of it, I had a new baby and with the many debriefings and functions there was hardly time to think about such things. I questioned Chakotay about it shortly before he left, he denied knowing what I was talking about, so I thought maybe I had imagined it. I now realise I hadn't. Tom's words have sparked a cascade of revelations, and now I understand that their distance had been forced, either mutually or one-sided I'm uncertain. I know it was because of Seven.

Chakotay's relationship with Seven had come of a surprise to quite a few of us. But I suppose he tired of holding out for Kathryn; he had become lonely in the delta quadrant, and the chance of a relationship with the beau of the ship was not something any man turned down lightly. So when they returned to Earth, he decided to give the relationship his best shot, and the distance he gained from Kathryn allowed him to do that.

At first I was sceptical about his relationship with Seven, but she made him happy, and he seemed good for her. They don't have the passion of a couple insatiably in love, and they don't click in the obvious sense, but he appreciates her quirks and she's understanding of his beliefs. They hold hands and they smile at each other, and I know that they're happier together than they would be alone... but now I'm standing in the presence of Chakotay with this other woman I realise that his wife doesn't fulfil him the way Kathryn does.

Sub-consciously I have moved myself and Tom closer to our former commanding officers, and I receive a warning glare from my husband not to continue our conversation for it would surely be overheard by them. I dare another glance over at Kathryn and Chakotay and instantly wish I hadn't.

Chakotay's head is bent over and his lips are barely touching her ear. With the music playing in the background I would not have heard what he said. But from reading his mouth and hearing the mumble for his voice I understand perfectly what he has said to her. I notice Kathryn pale slightly as a flush rises to my cheeks at prying on their very private moment. I'm relieved to see my former Captain look disturbed by what he has said, but I'm equally disconcerted that she hasn't pulled away.

My eyes glance Kathryn's husband standing by the bar with a drink. He's watching the couple carefully, and I wonder if he suspects something more to their friendship from the guarded look on his face. I'm certain he has no idea what Chakotay has just said, as otherwise he would be marching right over to the dancing couple to pry his wife back from her partner.

I instantly worry about Seven. Despite her lack of social graces, she is a great study of human behaviour, and I know she can lip read, so her husband's words would likely have been deciphered by her. Fortunately I see that her back is to the dance floor, and the couple in question. Relief washes over me; I wonder if Chakotay timed that.

Now I turn to my husband and find his eyes on me, waiting expectantly, and from the shock on his face I know that he was witness to those words also, and hopefully the only other one. I open my mouth to say something, but with a stiff shake of his head, he indicates I shouldn't speak. I'm so alarmed it takes almost all my willpower to shut the hell up.

We make a swift but discrete exit from the dance floor to discuss the comment privately.

"I can't believe Chakotay said that," I say just as we exit the banquet hall from a side door leading out onto a balcony.

"This isn't any of our business," he insists, but I can see that he's equally uncomfortable with being helpless in the knowledge.

"Do you think he meant..."

"B'Elanna," he cuts me off, taking a moment to look around and ensure we are alone. There's one couple at the far end of the balcony but they are out of ear shot, so I'm not worried. "We don't know what he meant."

"I think it's perfectly obvious," I counter, "... and he said _again_, that means..." I trail off, unsure I can finish the sentence.

Tom takes a moment, he places his hands on his hips and takes some time to think. It's one of the things I love about this man, when I want to jump in head first and cause havoc like a bull in a china shop, Tom reigns me back and forces us both to think through a situation.

"They're having an affair Tom," I prompt him.

He lets out a long breath. "We can't know that for certain," he insists.

"What are we going to do?" I cover my mouth with the sudden realisation of the implication of Chakotay's words. "Poor Seven. Kahless!"

"B'Elanna, look at me," Tom has taken me gently by the shoulders and is looking me right in the eye. "We are not going to do anything, least of all right now. They are all adults, and most importantly they are our friends. It is not our place to interfere..."

I bite my lip in an attempt to buy some time to get my head together. Eventually I am at the same place he was five minutes ago, and I have some perspective on the situation. We have both jumped to a conclusion without all the facts, and even if our interpretation is correct, then Tom is right, it is not up to the two of us to meddle.

I finally nod my head in agreement with my husband. He gives me a tight smile, and indicates that we can talk about this later. For the time being though we will go back to the banquet hall and enjoy the rest of the evening. We will talk with our old comrades, tell tales of the delta quadrant and laugh at ourselves. We may even share a drink with our former commanding officers. But whatever we do, we will carry on as normal. As if nothing has changed. As if we didn't hear Chakotay's words that turned our skin to Goosebumps:

"_I need to be with you again."_


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: See Chapter 1

**Chapter 2: Samantha Wildman**

"Samantha."

On hearing my name, I look up, and see Chakotay beaming down at me. I stand to greet him, and he envelops me in a friendly hug. He is warm, and his aftershave is sweet and spicy. He pulls back to look at me, "how are you?" he asks me quickly, "how are Naomi and Greskrendtregk?"

"We're all good," I reply with a smile, finding myself looking up at him with the same fondness I see returned in his eyes. "My husband has taken Naomi camping for a few days, so I have the house to myself at the moment."

He shoots me a grin, "is that good or bad?" he asks.

I chuckle, "both."

He nods, and indicates that I should enter his office. He has been planet side for over a week now, and having been promoted to Captain, has been assigned a temporary office in head quarters whilst he completes the crew compliment of his new ship.

"I feel like I haven't seen you since the debriefings finished," he comments as he walks around his desk, "we hardly got to speak at the Voyager reunion last week."

I consider making a joke at his late arrival, but then I reconsider, as I do not think that our friendship is close enough to share that type of banter. "Actually Captain, I saw you over a month ago, but I don't think you were aware."

His brows furrow as he tries to consider when our paths could have crossed. "Where was that?"

"In the docking bay of deep space 5," I explain.

Chakotay looks disappointed, "you should have drawn my attention, it's a shame I missed you."

I shake my head, "there was a glass panel between us. You must have been just boarding your shuttle as I was disembarking mine," I explain. "Were you there visiting Admiral Janeway?"

At the mention of Janeway, something unreadable passes across his face, which he quickly masks. I sense that I should not have mentioned her name.

"I wasn't aware that Admiral Janeway was on the station," he replies softly, "I was only there for a few hours to collect some supplies."

"That's too bad you missed her, I am sure she would have liked to see you." Even as I say the words I am not so sure if they are the truth. On Voyager they had always given the impression of close friends, if not more than that. However soon after our return to Earth their behaviour towards one another changed drastically. They were seldom seen together except at meetings or events they were both required to attend, and when they were together, they regarded each other formally and with a cold distance I had rarely seen either of them display.

I remember one occasion in particular, a short while after our return to the alpha quadrant, when I had observed them at Starfleet headquarters. I had been sat in the atrium outside some of the meeting rooms, waiting for the start of the next debriefing, when I caught mention of Janeway's name from a stranger close by.

Seeing the direction the woman was pointing, I looked up at the distant balcony, and caught sight of the Admiral standing by the railing. She wore a sombre expression as she spoke to a man in front of her: Chakotay.

I immediately wanted to get their attention, but something about their manner stopped me. Chakotay's face looked pained, and Janeway's stance was rigid and uncomfortable. Their conversation looked no less pleasant, they looked like a couple having a private disagreement, and trying to draw as little attention as possible to it.

I have observed thousands of exchanges between the two of them over the years. I have seen them openly disagree on the bridge about an order. I have witnessed Janeway's usually patient temper flare, and Chakotay's always steady aura calm her down. I have watched them laugh, and joke, and flirt at crew social events. And then of course, I don't think anyone missed them dance at the Voyager reunion. But I had never seen them like that before, as they stood on the balcony and... fought.

They appeared to be having an argument at a very personal level, the type of confrontation the crew had seldom been aware of, let alone a witness to aboard Voyager. I do not think this was due to the rarity of their personal disagreements, quite the contrary. I believe those were moments that they never intended to share with anyone else, that they always retreated to her ready room, or their quarters to have. Almost like two parents not wanting their children see them row, they avoided having such confrontations in front of witnesses, preferring instead to vent in private and present a united front for their crew.

However, for whatever reason, that day they had been forced into a public arena. Although I could see neither of them looked comfortable with the setting, whatever words they were shared seemed urgent and emotive enough to disregard their usual care.

If Chakotay is affected this time by my words, he does not show it. He smiles gently across at me, "I would have liked to see her also. Anyway," he bristles, "let's get down to why you're here. What do you know about the mission so far?"

"Very little," I confess, "I know that Sirius was commissioned as a scientific research vessel, however I have not yet heard what the ship's first mission will be under your command."

"We intend to undertake a six month expedition towards the outskirts of Buoron rift. There is a cluster of M class planets in orbit of the largest star." Chakotay smiles, "this is of particular interest to me from an anthropological angle because we believe this was the home of a highly developed society many years ago. Our objective is to find out what happened to them, and determine if they were warp capable. I have requested you in particular as we expect to uncover remains of the inhabitants, and your expertise will be valuable to determine what they would have looked like, and if they have any distant relatives in the known galaxy."

"And Starfleet has dedicated six months to this mission?" I eye him carefully, knowing that we could potentially collect all the research we need within a few weeks.

He concedes to my questioning with a slight tilt of his head, and his face turns stern. "As a research vessel, Sirius has been fitted with acute long range scanners. The Buoron rift will take us within range of the Romulan boarder... Starfleet have therefore decided to prolong our stay within the vicinity to allow us to do some reconnaissance. Although we have no intention of making contact with the Romulans, I feel I should keep you informed on all aspects of the mission, as Naomi will be coming, and I know that this could affect your decision."

I understand immediately that he is breaking a few rules by telling me all of this in advance of the official briefing. Perhaps he is wanting to give me the opportunity to turn down the assignment if I consider it too much of a risk with my child. Or, more likely, he wants me to accept with full knowledge of what we might get ourselves into. I shoot him a grateful expression, "I appreciate your concern Captain," I tell him gently, "but Greskrendtregk and I are both Starfleet officers, and we understand there is always an element of risk with each mission, but this is what we do. Since Voyager, we have decided that we want to remain together as a family, and Naomi is a space boomer, so I don't think she would know how to grow up any other way now. I can't think of a better ship to be on, than one under your command."

He looks slightly embarrassed by my compliment, and tugs at his earlobe slightly, but a smile eventually consumes his face. "I don't know how people balance a career in Starfleet with a family," he admits, "If I was a parent I think I would be a nervous wreck having my child onboard during a red alert."

His words strike up the thought in my head that he would be a wonderful father. He is caring, and patient, and very loving; it is a shame that he has not yet had the chance to share these wonderful traits with a son or daughter. I wonder if he and Seven will eventually start a family, I know that Naomi adores Seven, and she would also make a good mother. Then again, the couple may be content enough with each other, parenthood may be one opportunity that they chose to forego.

"You get used to it," I promise.

Chakotay doesn't say anything further on the topic, and our conversation drifts. He fills me in on the details of the team I will be working with over the following few months. I ask him some more questions about the ship, and the planets we will be studying, and I make requests for some additional lab equipment that I know we could benefit from.

Eventually, our conversation drifts into reminiscing out the years on Voyager.

When I tell family and friends about our time, it sounds like an adventure, as if we never wanted to leave the delta quadrant. With fellow comrades though, it is easier to be honest, to admit that we were scared, tired and frustrated some of the time. We can talk about those we lost along the way, and Chakotay especially really cares to listen; of all the crew, he is possibly the easiest to open up to... I almost find myself in tears when we discuss Neelix.

All too soon though, his next meeting is waiting, and I bid him a fond goodbye, leaving in good spirits for the mission that awaits us.


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: See Chapter 1

**Chapter 3: Tom Paris**

The doorbell rings and my wife who is busy cooking instructs me to get it. Miral is almost asleep in my arms, so I indicate for Chakotay to take my daughter from me, and he gladly accepts. We are still waiting for Harry, Kathryn and her husband: Nicholas to arrive, and when I get to the door I am surprised to see which two have come.

"Harry came to pick me up from my office," Kathryn explains as she steps over the threshold, "I think he was worried I would lose track of time."

"It has happened in the past," Harry quips. My friend's comment reminds me of how much he has changed in eight years. From the nervous Ensign who debated whether or not to invite the Captain to join us in the mess hall, to the bold Lieutenant who makes jokes at the expense of a decorated Admiral.

She shoots him a sly grin, and after I have taken their jackets, they follow me into the kitchen.

"Chakotay!" Harry exclaims loudly, before he realises the almost sleeping Miral in the man's arms, and purposefully quietens himself down as they shake hands.

The older man then turns to Kathryn who has also just stepped through the doorway, and he extends an arm. She walks into it, and they embrace carefully, so as not to disturb the child. Then she pulls back slightly, her hand lingering on his shoulder, and his arm drops to wrap around her lower back.

Kathryn runs an affectionate hand across Miral's head, and the little girl opens her eyes slightly. Not wanting to wake her, the woman hushes my daughter and leans forward to place a kiss on her forehead. This appears to work, as Miral closes her eyes again, and drifts asleep.

What is more interesting to witness however is the look on Chakotay's face during the exchange. There is a longing and tenderness in his eyes as his gaze fixes on his friend. I wonder if he is thinking the same thought that crosses my mind: that Kathryn would be a wonderful mother if she chose to become one.

"Where's Nicholas?" B'Elanna breaks the moment, and I cannot help but notice how Chakotay and Kathryn quickly disengage at the mention of the Commodore's name.

"Nic is accompanying the ambassador to Vulcan this weekend," she explains casually.

"Where's Seven?" Harry pipes up before he can catch my warning glare.

All eyes are on Chakotay. B'Elanna and I are guarded because we know, Harry is curious, as he doesn't and Kathryn looks concerned, and I cannot tell if this is because she knows or suspects what has happened.

"Seven and I are taking some time apart," he tells them.

B'Elanna and I share a knowing look, because Chakotay is playing down the severity of what it happening to his marriage. They have already moved into separate accommodations, Seven has found a house just outside of London, and Chakotay has an apartment in San Francisco. Chakotay will be leaving for deep space in a few weeks, and I believe that they will file for divorce soon after.

"I'm sorry to hear that," Harry responds, most likely regretting that he asked.

I think we are all waiting for Kathryn to comment. Chakotay appears to be trying to catch her eye, but she tactfully avoids his gaze. Harry glances patiently between our two former commanding officers. But she doesn't say anything. I consider that this may be the theme of the evening, Chakotay saying something to bait Kathryn, and her expert avoidance coming to light.

Before an awkward silence can drag out B'Elanna asks that we set the table, and everyone is glad of the distraction.

When Chakotay announces he is taking Miral up to bed, Harry waits two seconds after he has disappeared from the room, before commenting on the break-up. "I have to say, I was surprised when the two of them announced they were together," he notes, "but they seemed... content. I thought they might last."

"Sometimes contentment isn't enough," B'Elanna points out. "The two may have survived on Voyager, but now we are back home, I think they realise they can both do better than simply make do with one another."

I wonder why she is adding fuel to the fire with Kathryn still present in the room, and then I realise my wife is purposefully attempting to smoke her out. I am not sure if I should bring an end to the game, or watch it play out. I decide on the latter for the time being; there seems little harm in it.

"I think that's a little harsh B'Elanna," Harry counters, "they seemed smitten with each other when we returned home."

She shoots him a raised eyebrow, "probably when it was all still new and exciting. How many times have you fallen for someone, only to realise later that your feelings die away as quickly as they came?"

He nods; we all know Harry to be guilty of that on more than one occasion. What my friend sometimes forgets however is that other men are just as likely as he is to fall for the wrong woman. "I suppose," he agrees.

"Besides," B'Elanna adds, "I suspect there was another woman."

Harry and I both look at my wife alarmed. I am considering that she is taking this game too far, Harry however, looks aghast at the suggestion. I sneak a look in Kathryn's direction, and I witness her quickly masking an expression of panic.

"Chakotay wouldn't do that," he insists, and I realise that my naive friend is again blinded by his hero worship. To Harry, Chakotay is a man with high morals and spirituality. In his eyes, Chakotay would never betray his wife by falling short of the commitment he made to love no other.

I don't think he has ever acknowledged Chakotay's character flaws. The man is short sighted in his actions, he is passionate and disguises a smouldering aggression. Under the right circumstances, there is nothing that the man is not capable of. Sometimes I wish I had not known Chakotay in the Maquis, because then perhaps I could live under the same delusion as Harry.

"For the right woman, I think Chakotay would do anything," B'Elanna points out, "he can be a real ass when he wants to be."

"She would have to be something special to top Seven," Harry counters, and I begin to wonder if he had any idea what was going on between our commanding officers during all those years aboard Voyager. Sometimes the sexual tension between the two as they flirted on the bridge was enough to cause the hairs on the back of my neck to stand on end. Harry must have been too busy scanning for worm holes home if he missed any of that.

B'Elanna rolls her eyes, "Seven is far from _perfect_."

I can tell that Harry wants to reprimand B'Elanna for that comment, but I do not want to see a fallout between these two so early on in the evening. I open my mouth to intervene, but it is Kathryn who surprises us all by speaking out.

"I think you're both wrong," she interrupts. They both instantly shut up and turn to her. Kathryn has been sat there quietly long enough, that I think they had both started to forget that she was present. "One of Chakotay's greatest strengths is his loyalty. He wouldn't carry on an extra marital affair. If his marriage to Seven is over, then it would have been a mutual decision."

The group of us fall silent as we accept the reality of her comment. She is right. Chakotay would not intentionally break a promise he had made, and he would never allow himself to pursue an action which would hurt someone he was dedicated to. I also realise that perhaps B'Elanna and I were overreacting. After what we heard at the Voyager reunion, we had quickly come to the judgment that Chakotay and Kathryn were planning an adulterous affair. However, her words remind me of the danger of jumping to conclusions, that sometimes you don't consider all the facts.

Kathryn is a game player who closely follows the rules, she never breaks them, although has been known on occasion to bend them. There is no way that she would agree to cheat on both her husband and a woman she has come to care for as a daughter.

However, her assessment of Chakotay is blindsided. She is ignoring one major implication of one of his greatest strengths, and I wonder if she has phrased her words carefully on purpose so as not to expose herself. "It's also one of his biggest weaknesses," I talk directly to my former Captain, "Chakotay is loyal to a fault. So much so, that sometimes he devotes himself to the wrong person, and he doesn't realise his mistake until it is too late."

I don't need to mention the names of Seska or Riley Frasier to underpin my point. However my words also carry an underlying message to them, one that I have left there on purpose, and I suspect only the two women in the kitchen will understand in this moment. None of us truly believe that he was in love with Seven, he was probably just lonely and decided to settle. He possibly deluded himself that he loved her enough, he hoped that they would eventually bond. It took him longer than the rest of us to realise it was never going to happen, because he had already committed himself to her.

I can tell B'Elanna wants to continue our speculations, but we hear the familiar sound of the stairs creaking, and all shut up.

We are silent when Chakotay returns to the kitchen, and he gives us an odd look.

I can see that he wants to ask what we were all talking about, but my wife distracts him, by requesting that he help her serve the dinner.

The rest of the evening passes in a happy blur, as we chat and eat and drink plenty of wine. Harry is considerate enough not to mention Seven again, and I am grateful that B'Elanna makes no further attempts to pry into the relationship of our former commanding officers.

The camaraderie between the five of us is easy and natural, and it makes me realise how much Kathryn and Chakotay separated themselves from the rest of the crew on Voyager. Of course Chakotay and B'Elanna have always had a special relationship, but only in the last few years have I also built a strong friendship with the former Maquis cell leader.

As for Kathryn, she always held herself at a certain distance from most of the crew, one which we all knew was necessary due to her extraordinary position. However, I am glad that this past year we have gotten to know her so much more intimately. She has dropped her last few shields, and become an active friend in our lives. I am much more appreciative of her sharp wit, and wicked sense of humour, especially over a quiet dinner like this, as she brings a spark to the evening.

When later on, the conversation drifts to ghosts we left on Voyager, she is not afraid to show her sadness or admit her fears. I have seen it a few times now, where she will completely drop the mask she wears and open up, and the vulnerability she expresses is both overwhelming and honouring that she is willing to share it with us. As she talks, I can't help but notice the subtle hand Chakotay places on her arm, and the way she unknowingly covers his hand with her own, as if his body is merely an extension of hers.

Observing this makes me realise that Chakotay has probably seen this side of her many times before, and he has learnt through experience exactly what she needs from him in such moments. For the first time I find myself truly grateful that they had each other on Voyager. When Kathryn felt like she had to distance herself, he ignored the barriers she erected, and forged a friendship which I have no doubt provided her the strength she needed to continue during the most difficult days. In return, she provided him the peace and purpose that he had lost somewhere between adolescence and the Maquis.

Sometimes I wonder if the two of them realise how perfectly suited they are for one another. Sometimes I wonder if they even realise they are in love.

If there is any validity to B'Elanna's and my own suspicions, they do very little to provide us evidence of an affair. They behave just as they would have at any crew function aboard Voyager, like two great friends who have missed each other terribly over these past few months.

Eventually the evening winds to a close, and the charming Lieutenant Kim kindly offers to escort Kathryn back to her home. No doubt he is wanting to pick up on some Starfleet gossip on route to her house. Chakotay makes plans to come to the beach with us the following weekend with Miral and we all file out of the kitchen.

As we step out into the hallway my daughter begins to cry. Harry makes a joke that she is possibly sad to know they are all leaving, and the group chuckles. He and B'Elanna disappear up the stairs to go check on her, and I slip into the lounge to collect the coats for our guests.

I am only gone twenty, perhaps thirty seconds, but as I am about to step back through the doors into the hallway, I overhear Janeway's husky voice.

"So you and Seven are over?"

"You sound surprised..." Chakotay's voice is soft.

"Did I have anything to do with it?" I am so shocked by the implication of the question, I almost miss the worry in her tone.

There is a long pause, and I am almost tempted to sneak my head round the door to see the expression on his face. I can only imagine that his brows furrow, as if considering what answer to give her. "Yes," he says eventually.

"Chakotay, I can't-" she starts to insist, but he must interrupt her with a shake of his head.

"I know," he almost whispers. "I just wish..." I think he will trail off, but he doesn't, instead he lets out a frustrated sigh, "...I could have done things so much differently."

"Like what?"

My mouth drops, I cannot believe she is actually tempting him to answer. He stutters, but breaks off when they hear my wife and Harry descending the stair case.

I chose that moment to make my reappearance, "I have your coats," I announce with forced cheeriness.

B'Elanna shoots me an odd expression, and I notice Kathryn and Chakotay step apart as they are interrupted, but I think they are none the wiser that I have overheard them.

All too soon we are saying goodbye to one another, passing Miral around for kisses, sharing hugs and waving our friends off down the street. Later that night I share my story with B'Elanna. I know this will be something that we keep between each other, as we respect our friends too much for this to become gossip.

In a few years however, when the dust has settled, and over a few bottles of wine, B'Elanna and I will openly confront the two of them about our observations during this time. They will share a look, as they silently collude on if and how to answer. Chakotay will shrug, and Kathryn will raise an eyebrow at him in response, but eventually they agree to tell us their tale. And what will surprise my wife and I, will not be how wrong we had been, or how close to the truth we were, but when they begin their story years before.


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: See Chapter 1

**Chapter 4: The Doctor**

Admiral Janeway's husband: Nicholas Jorski, is a tall, broad man with light brown hair and dark blue eyes. He is a decorated war hero, who was promoted to Commodore soon after the Cardassian war came to an end. I am not entirely sure what a Commodore does, however I understand it to be an honorary rank for a Captain to be promoted to if they refuse to give up their seat. It keeps them out the way, without the dishonour of discharging them.

I am not certain why Starfleet wanted him off a bridge, there are rumours of course, but I know better than to listen to them.

He is sat on a chair outside my office, waiting. Usually when patients wait, they read a book, or grab a drink. He has done none of those things. Since his arrival, he has sat hunched over, clutching his palms together, staring intently at the floor. He is tense. As if to prove my point, he shakes his shoulders out, momentarily relieving the tension between them, before returning to his original pose.

I saw him a couple of weeks ago at the Voyager reunion. When we chatted he was cheerful and relaxed, holding his wife in his arm and discreetly kissing her whenever she offered him the opportunity.

Their whirlwind romance took some people by surprise. They began dating soon after the Voyager debriefings had come to an end, and married only five months ago. I have heard rumours that Janeway's haste might have been in response to another quick flame between Seven and Chakotay, but I wonder if perhaps she just wanted to settle down for a quiet life, after seven years in the delta quadrant.

Thinking of Seven, I am reminded of my brunch with her last week. She returned to Earth the same day as Voyager's first reunion, having spent the previous eight months on assignment aboard Pioneer, where Chakotay was posted as first officer. I had expected that on their return Chakotay would be quickly promoted to Captain, and they would both leave for his next vessel, but they surprised me.

Seven took a job with University College London to do a PhD, and found a house just outside the city. Chakotay however, was promoted and plans to command a new ship, for which he will leave in a few weeks.

At brunch I questioned Seven, asking how she would cope without her husband. She was evasive on the topic. When I pointed out the most newlyweds required the time together to secure their new relationship, I believe she visibly blanched. It was only then that Seven revealed she and Chakotay were no longer living together. I suspect their separation will become public knowledge imminently, and their legal divorce will follow.

My attention turns to Nicholas who has stepped through the open door into my office. He offers me a tight smile, "sorry about this," he looks nervous, "Kathryn promised to be here on time."

My mind races over his words, and the implications behind them. The concept that his wife promised him a prompt arrival indicates that they had a discussion about this appointment. Perhpas she had indicated a heavy workload and attempted to shirk the meeting, but on his insistence, dedicated herself to make the time in her schedule.

The fact that she is late now, tells me perhaps her enthusiasm to go ahead with this, is not as it was several months ago. Maybe she is having second thoughts. From the tense posture of her husband stood in front of me, I wonder if he also realises this.

"Not to worry, we have plenty of time," I try to put him at ease, "on Voyager she would frequently miss appointments with me, and when she did turn up, it was in her own time, as if I had nothing better to do than wait."

He sighs, "this is hardly a regular check-up," he points out.

I smile gently, "in my observations of Kathryn Janeway over the years, she does not put off something she does not want to do, but she will try to avoid anything which makes her feel unsettled. Perhaps she is anxious about this."

He opens his mouth as if to say something on that point, but we both hear the click of heals at the same time, and our heads snap in the direction of the door.

Kathryn arrives with an apologetic look on her face, "sorry, I got caught up with work," she quickly explains, her eyes drifting to her husband. She gives him a disarming smile, closes the gap between them, and tiptoes up to press her lips tenderly to his.

When she pulls back, I can see that her husband has been reassured by her behaviour, and has instantly relaxed. What he doesn't see however, is her forced smile, the way she takes his hand in her own and grips it for her own reassurance. The deep breath she takes to steady herself before her eyes take the same determined look I have seen her adopt before facing the Borg or the Hirogen. "Let's do this then," she says, but her words are not of excitement, they are of someone wanting to get something unpleasant over and done with.

To someone who has known this woman for as long as I have, it is clear to see she has cold feet. But having a child should not be something which is done without one hundred percent commitment.

However I know better than to interfere. I usher them into the examination room and Kathryn lays down on the bio bed.

The couple have been trying for a baby since they married; I believe this to be the underlying haste with which they cemented their commitment to one another. They came to me a couple of months ago to help improve their chances of a natural conception. Janeway is now forty four, but she is in good shape, most likely thanks to my good care of her these past eight years, therefore conception for her was not a problem. For Nicholas however, he had been subject to a thoron radiation leak some years ago, and had not been given treatment fast enough, therefore his chances were very low.

I suggested an assisted method, and after a few weeks of consideration, they made this appointment with me.

Janeway's husband smiles lovingly down at her as he holds her hand gently in his, rubbing his thumb over the back of her fingers. I perform a preliminary scan to ensure my patient is ready, but my initial triquorder readings immediately highlight a complication to the procedure.

I take a moment to confirm the readout on a second scanner, by which point I can see Kathryn has already sensed that something is not quite as planned. "Is something wrong?" she asks, propping herself up on an elbow.

I look between my patient and her husband and I hesitate, knowing that my next words will change everything. "Unfortunately we will not be able to perform this procedure today," I explain. Nicholas's face momentarily falls, but I think Kathryn almost looks relieved at the news, but I have not finished. I turn to her, "because you are already pregnant."

Shock consumes both their faces, but what I find interesting is what follows. Nicholas goes from surprise to sheer joy within moments. Janeway however remains in shock for a much longer time, and when she eventually lifts from it, I clearly see worry written across her features.

"How far along am I?" she asks, her voice calm, despite the obvious anxiety etched into her face.

"Six weeks," I tell her.

I am not sure what passes across her features in that moment, I have known her a long time, but her face is now completely undecipherable to me. What I do recognise however, is the mask she pulls across her face to hide the underlying emotions that she clearly does not want me to see.

She accepts an embrace from her husband, but expertly avoids kissing his lips, offering him her cheek instead.

I give the couple a few moments to adjust to the news, although I am sure the feeling of surprise will linger much longer.

The remainder of the appointment transforms into a pre-natal examination. This is her first pregnancy, so I give her advice on morning sickness, and limiting her caffeine intake, and she nods with comprehension. I check the health of the foetus and ensure the viability of the pregnancy, and both are good.

"Are you able to tell us the sex?" Nicholas asks.

"No!" Kathryn quickly erupts, then noticing the harshness with which she spoke repositions herself mentally. "I don't want to know," she explains, this time, much more softly.

Her husband grins, "then perhaps the Doctor can just tell me."

Now she looks irritated, "if you know, you will let it slip." He opens his mouth as if to reassure her that he wouldn't, but she intercepts, "Nic, please."

We can both hear the plea in her voice, can see it in her eyes. The man quickly caves, and nods with acceptance, "okay," he shrugs, "we can wait."

Relief washes over her features.

I move on to suggest a more thorough examination of their unborn baby, but Kathryn is quick to check the time and make an excuse that she needs to be at another meeting. Her husband seems less than pleased at this response, but accepts it with good grace.

I administer her a hypo to top up her vitamins, and book in her next appointment. When we are done, she departs with Nicholas, his arm wrapped around her shoulders. As they leave I hear him making plans to walk her back to her office before they disappear down the corridor.

To the casual observer Kathryn Janeway's behaviour would appear that of a surprised mother-to-be, who wants to buy herself some time to come to terms with the news. However I suspect something more, I believe she was having second thoughts about becoming pregnant, and this news that she already is, has cemented her decision before she had really had a chance to rethink it.

What still disturbs me however was that look that passed across her face when I told her she was already with child. My programme clicks over it for a long time after she has gone, and when I finally recognise it, I am even further disturbed. It was something I believe I have only seen in her expression a couple of times before, and hence why it took me so long to realise, but the reaction that passed her features, was complete and absolute _panic_.


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: See Chapter 1

**Chapter 5: Naomi Wildman**

Captain Chakotay sits on the sofa opposite me in the mess hall, chin rested on finger tips, and elbows on knees as he stares intently at the pieces on the chess board between us. After another minute has passed he moves his bishop two spaces, and then looks to me for my turn.

His face is completely devoid of any expression, and I have no idea if he thinks he is close to winning, or knows what my game plan might be. I have heard it referred to as a 'poker face', and I purposefully compose my own features, disguising my anticipation as I am only two moves away from placing him into check mate. A small smile tugs at my lips before I can force it down, and he shoots me a curious look. _Oh no._ Worrying that he might be onto me, I decide a distraction is in order before he can give the pieces on the board another examination and work out my next planned moves.

"Have you heard the news?" I ask him.

"What news?" he asks absently as he continues to study the board.

I let out a quiet huff of exasperation when he does not immediately give me his full attention, "Admiral Janeway is going to have a baby."

He fixes his eyes on me without moving his head. "Yes, I know" he replies.

"How did _you_ find out?" The Doctor told me by accident during our subspace chat on the weekend, and I thought I was one of the first people to find out. I have been waiting for two days with this information since then. Two days dying to tell people, but unable to utter a word. Two days waiting for this game, and the perfect moment to deploy my weapon, knowing that it would distract Chakotay and enable me to have an upper hand.

Lifting his head up from his hands he reclines back against his seat, "Admiral Janeway told me. She is very happy and excited."

"She told you?!" I am unable to hold the surprise from my voice, or the words that follow. "I didn't think you and the Admiral spoke anymore."

Chakotay gives me hard look, "why wouldn't we talk to each other Naomi?"

I start to realise I am digging myself into a hole, but his question throws me off guard and I answer it before I have thought it properly through. "It's just... since we left Voyager... you don't seem to be as good friends as you used to be."

He looks sad for a moment before he can mask his expression. "We're still friends." It is a statement. He is not insisting, or trying to persuade, he is stating a fact, and the definite look on his face backs it up.

A silence lulls between us, and eventually we both turn our attention back to the chess pieces.

It has been a month since Sirius left Earth and we headed out to the Buoron rift. Including my mum and Chakotay, there are eight of the old Voyager crew onboard. Although we are all close, and enjoy spending time together, we have each found our own social groups on Sirius.

I was worried that living on a new ship would be terrible without my Voyager family, but it is just different. Although there are not the familiar faces of Seven and Tom and the Doctor, I have made new friends, and although Kathryn Janeway is not on the bridge, Captain Chakotay is a great leader all the same. The pace of life is also different, on Voyager everyone was always busy, and not necessarily in the good way. On this ship, it is calm and easy going, people work hard because they want to, not because they have to.

Even Chakotay himself has changed. I always knew he was composed and patient, enjoying a quiet and private life, but he now seems much more open and relaxed. He is willing to talk about Seven, despite how much I know he hates people speculating on their divorce. At crew events he laughs and jokes, and I have heard he held a few poker night in his quarters for the senior staff. Then, at times like this, he is happy to sit and play chess with me, talking when either of us have something to say, or content to simply sit quietly and contemplate the game.

It reminds how much pressure he was under on Voyager. He rarely would have had time to sit for two hours to play chess with me, and even if he had have made the effort, he most likely would have been called away halfway through with one urgent matter or another. Despite his good friendships on Voyager, he always kept a certain distance, as it was also his responsibility to discipline the crew before the Captain became involved. I remember hearing B'Elanna on more than one occasion swearing under her breath after she had been reprimanded by Chakotay. Now I cannot imagine B'Elanna saying anything but his praises.

Everyone always gives the Admiral her due credit for returning us safely from the delta quadrant, but I consider that Chakotay is often overlooked. He may not have carried the same burden as our Captain, but he shouldered a great deal of it whenever he could.

I take his rook with my queen, and become only one move away from winning. I decide to 'go for broke' as Tom Paris would say in this situation.

"Do you miss her?"

Confusion clouds his features a moment as he considers who I am talking about. "Seven?"

We weren't talking about Seven. He knows exactly who I am referring to, and I can tell he is purposefully trying to deflect the question. "Capt... well _Admiral_ Janeway."

"You know, she did give you permission to call her Kathryn..."

I pull a face, "feels weird calling her that though."

Chakotay rolls his eyes, and I realise he has tactfully evaded the question to the point where I cannot repeat it again now. "Of course I miss her," he volunteers, "but things changed. We moved on."

"My parents didn't," I point out, and let the thought hang between us a moment. "You're turn."

His eyes narrow on me, and I return a defiant look. That's right. I said it. And he can just deal with it. The crew used to tiptoe around the issue, as if saying it out loud would somehow break them. But I am one move away from winning my first chess game against Chakotay, and I refuse to lose.

"I don't think I know what you're talking about," he says, but I can see a small smirk forming on his lips, and I realise he is far from flustered about my prying into his relationship with Admiral Janeway. I worry that this distraction is not having the desired effect.

"I'm saying that you love her." Just as I say the words he moves his queen to the obvious gap in the board and I realise he has walked right into the trap I set up for him. "I win!" I shout, "I win!" I repeat again, triumphant at my first victory.

Chakotay sits back, "you played me."

"Yes," I giggle, "and I won."

He gazes steadily across from me, but the smirk is still there on his face, and he looks far from defeated. I hesitate in my victory dance. And now I look back down at the pieces that have been played. To my horror I realise that although I have placed him in check, the bishop he moved earlier has given him a manoeuvre out. Not only that, but with one further move from his knight he will not only block my check, but place me into check mate.

"Nice try," he swoons, taking the anticipated move and ending the game.

"Damn it!"

"Language," a warning tone.

I collapse back into the couch, suddenly very deflated. "How did you do that?"

"Don't take chess advice from Tom Paris," Chakotay pulls a face of mock disappointment.

I cross my arms. I had pulled out all the stops for this game. And yes, I did ask Tom for a couple of pointers on how to get one over on his former commanding officer.

Finally I concede to the better player, and we shake hands. Chakotay is a tough opponent to take on, but to his credit he always gives his best, and never lets me win the same way Neelix or even Tuvok used to. One day I will beat him at a game of chess, and when I do it will be all the more satisfying because I will know I have earned it.

I consider this quality in his command of Voyager. There were times when he could have let Captain Janeway win an argument and do whatever she wanted. He could have had an easier life (and not ended up confined to quarters on a couple of occasions), but he chose not to. I realise now, that he doesn't challenge because he enjoys it, he does it because he has to. He doesn't let me win, because he wants me to learn to master the game. He didn't let Janeway do whatever she wanted, because if forced her to consider more options, and I am sure it kept her from getting too reckless.

I wonder if that's one of the reasons they always kept a certain distance.

As we pack away the board and pieces I ask him one final question. "I was right though, wasn't I?"

Chakotay looks genuinely confused.

"How you feel about her." This time I am much more careful with my words, without the adrenaline pumping through my veins at an impending win, I am not as brave as I was a few minutes before.

He smiles, "you were spot on Naomi."

I sigh. It seems so sad that they are not together, especially now that Chakotay is all alone. "Do you think you would be together now, if she wasn't married to Commodore Jorski?"

"In a heartbeat," he tells me honestly, and even in his reply he does not hesitate.


	6. Chapter 6

Disclaimer: See Chapter 1

**Chapter 6: Seven of Nine**

The Federation gala is an annual celebration of the collaboration of member worlds. It is attended not just by representatives of the member planets and Starfleet, but also by various businesses, accomplished individuals and research institutes. I was asked to attend on behalf of the University, and along a colleague: Darien Williams, we have been tasked with obtaining support for some key projects.

Having identified several distinguished Starfleet Admirals, politicians and diplomats who are in attendance, I am starting to fully appreciate the importance and high profile of such an event.

My companion and I spend much of the evening networking with various target individuals and groups. Although this type of conversing is not my forte, I recognise it as an essential activity in order to achieve our research objectives, and therefore I agreed to endure it for the evening.

Just as we locate Earth's main technological minister, and head in the direction of the politician, the flash of a familiar face catches in my peripheral vision. I had not been certain whether or not Admiral Janeway would be in attendance, as she was still off planet a couple of days ago, so the moment I see her, I decide to seize the opportunity. I tug gently at Darien's arm and he turns to me with a questioning look in his eye.

"I have just seen someone I wish to speak with," I explain, "do you mind?"

He smiles and takes my hand gently in his, "of course not Anika," he assures me. "I will find you later this evening."

I meet his eyes a moment, and our gazes lock. I find it difficult to understand my physical responses to these brief moments we share; the blush which crawls up my face when he compliments me, and flutter in my chest when I look at him and the Goosebumps on my arm whenever he touches me. I experienced none of these things with my husband, and I wonder if this is what Chakotay claimed was missing in our marriage when we concluded to part ways.

The moment passes, and Darien returns on his original course, whilst I take a moment to reorientation myself.

The Admiral has moved from her previous position, and I see that she is now stood with her back to me, near the fountain, talking to another couple of equally ranked Starfleet officers.

I find myself hesitating before I approach them, taking a moment instead to observe my former mentor. I hear they are discussing a recent first contact situation and Admiral Janeway is talking animatedly and with enthusiasm to the group. There is something very different about the woman stood only metres away from me, and I am not talking about the physical changes of her pregnancy such as the bulge protruding from her elegant black dress. There is something in her mannerisms and aura which has changed, but I am at a loss to immediately explain.

On Voyager the Captain was a larger than life character, she was strong, and fearless and demanding of her crew. As my mentor we spent a great deal of time together, both on and off duty, and I thought I knew her. However hearing the person Chakotay often spoke of with such awe and compassion... and at times with love, I started to realise that there was a whole other side to Kathryn Janeway I had not been privy too.

When I asked Chakotay once why I had not known her in this way, he grew quiet for a moment, and his eyes took on a faraway look before he told me how she had changed over the years. How her rigid Starfleet facade had started to slip away after only weeks of knowing her. Within months he knew her wicked sense of humour and the quick wit which she shared with the crew. After not long after, he also started to appreciate her resilience, compassion, intelligence and many quirky habits. Two years into their journey he claimed to have never had a better friend.

The delta quadrant however took its toll on her. Returning home became an obsession. She started to take unnecessary risks, and personal relationships became secondary to duty and work. By the time I had arrived on Voyager he claimed to already be losing her, and he fought an almost hopeless battle in the following years to make her see reason, to take breaks and consider safer solutions to problems. Chakotay never said it, but I sensed he grieved for a friend he lost somewhere along the journey.

The woman stood across from me right now is someone new and unfamiliar. She is radiant and relaxed; I instantly recognise how content she is, and at the back of my mind I wonder how unhappy she was on Voyager. I suppose this is the side of Kathryn Janeway I have only glimpsed before, but now her presence is almost overwhelming.

One of the Admirals in the group notices me, and nods a head in my direction as the other two also turn to me. Kathryn shoots me an uncertain smile and quietly excuses herself from the group, stepping away to join me.

"Seven," she greets me, but there is something hidden behind her expression I am unable to decipher, "how are you?"

"I am well," I assure her, no doubt she is referring not only to my good health, but also my impending divorce.

"I noticed you here earlier with a young gentleman..."

"Darien Williams, a research fellow at the University." I fill her in on some of the details, before changing the topic. "I believe congratulations are customary," I indicate her pregnant state, she must be approximately five months along.

Her hand travels absently to cover her belly, "thank you," she says politely.

"Is Commodore Jorski with you this evening?" I ask.

Kathryn's smile noticeably falters, and she looks concerned. "No," she stiffens slightly, "Nicolas and I separated a while ago."

I raise an eyebrow in response, for once missing the Voyager grapevine, which would have delivered this news to me much more efficiently than the occasional contacts I now have with my former crewmates. "I am sorry to hear that," I respond, "apparently marriage is not as permanent as I initially assumed."

Sadness clearly clouds the woman's eyes, "I would not make any conclusions based on yours and my own experiences just yet. Relationships can be difficult, but when it is right, it is very much worth it."

I frown, "and you were not right for each other?"

She considers my question a moment. I believe she is fighting the urge to protect her privacy, against the want to be honest with me. "It was slightly more complicated than that," she offers me by way of explanation.

I resist my temptation to probe her for more details as I realise doing so, especially in this setting, would be inappropriate. Before I can follow social etiquette and change the subject, she does the courtesy and asks me about my research.

We talk for a few more minutes, about work and life, but she is careful to avoid the elephant which stands between us: Chakotay.

I wonder if she and Chakotay are again in regular contact. I know that their close friendship on Voyager came to an odd conclusion on our return to Earth, and even my relationship with Kathryn was abandoned. At first I had considered it a natural part of the physical separation from the ship. However, after discussing with other former members of Voyager, and hearing of their various encounters with the newly promoted Admiral, it occurred to me that Chakotay and I were some of the few whose bond with her had become more distant.

It took me a while to realise that Kathryn was purposefully giving us both space. It took me a little longer to understand that my relationship with Chakotay was the cause.

On Voyager they had shared a special closeness, one that surrogated itself for a the more intimate relationship they both desired. It was the type of relationship which would not allow for a third party, not because of jealousy or a commitment, but because of the emotional intensity of their friendship which neither could maintain whilst in pursuit of something deeper with another individual.

I honestly believe they had no idea how deep their feelings for each other ran. Chakotay once admitted to me that they had made an unspoken agreement not to explore their boundaries romantically, for fear that it could upset the delicate balance of their command. Perhaps they were both worried about how close they were to falling irrevocably in love if they took that one final act, I do not think either of them considered they already were.

All the while these thoughts are spinning through my head, I continue my conversation with the decorated Admiral whilst maintaining a neutral demeanour. All too soon we are interrupted by a diplomat wishing to speak with Kathryn, she is apologetic when our talk comes to an end, and asks me to call her up for a coffee date at some point in the near future. I agree, and she leaves to regale another group with tales of the delta quadrant everyone seems so intent on hearing us repeat time after time.

I know other women in my situation would feel hurt and betrayed at the thought of their partner being in love with another. I also know that under social conventions I should be angry with the woman who was an unintentional wedge in my marriage. However I feel none of those things. I feel grateful to Chakotay for his companionship for the year we shared, for he was patient and attentive and caring toward me, and an excellent guide to my first relationship. I think our only mistake was attempting to make a permanent commitment, when clearly it was not right in our circumstance.

Towards Kathryn I feel the love of a parent or sibling; of family. But I also feel the loss and hurt of our separation, and I am sad at the thought it is unlikely we will again share that same closeness as we did on Voyager.

I wonder now that Chakotay and Kathryn are both free agents, if they will find each other again. Although I have a small suspicion they may already have.


	7. Chapter 7

Disclaimer: See Chapter 1

**Chapter 7: Harry Kim**

The Admiral returns from the replicator with a mug of coffee, and sits down heavily in the control seat beside me. I turn to her, glance at the drink, and then at her face. She is scowling at me.

"Don't say it."

"Say what?" I shoot back quickly.

She indicates the mug, "that I shouldn't be drinking this."

I allow a smirk. "Oh no, I wouldn't dare," I banter, "but I am sure you will hear about it from Chakotay."

After taking a long sip, and clearly enjoying it, she peers at me over the rim of the beverage, "not if he doesn't see me."

This time she smirks, and I crack up into laughter.

I will miss this women when I take my next space assignment. I have been based on Earth for the last six months as I complete my command training. The time has provided Kathryn and I ample opportunity to become much closer than the command structure of Voyager allowed. She has brought me into her life as a friend and on occasion a confident, and I am very grateful for it. I have learnt she has a wicked sense of humour and a vulnerability and openness I rarely glimpsed when she was my Captain. She has invited me to her home, and I have met several members of her family and long time friends; gaining me insights into her private life that I feel privileged that she has shared with me.

It is also very special to watch her prepare to become a mother. On Voyager she mothered many of the junior staff, perhaps me, more so than many of the others. However, I do not believe it will be anything like when she has a child of her own. There will be a bond and unconditional love between the two that she will put above everything and everyone else. Whereas on Voyager, she could pick and chose the moments to switch between a parental and command approach, for this child there will only be one, and I know already she will excel at it.

I am broken from my revere as the shuttle bleeps an alert and I straighten in my seat to check the display. "We are approaching Sirius," I announce, "I am matching course and speed and requesting permission to dock the shuttle."

Her hands also fly to the controls as she begins the checks usually performed by the co-pilot. I know many senior officers who would assume the role of pilot in this type of situation, but the wonderful thing about Kathryn is her ability to get on with whatever is necessary at the time, to let go of the reigns and be delegated to when needed.

It takes a few minutes for our shuttle to synchronise with the Intrepid class starship, and I cannot help but notice the Admiral beside me becoming slightly apprehensive. I observe how she wrings her hands and fiddles with her comm. badge, crosses and then unfolds her legs, runs her thumb absently around the rim of her mug... it is as if she does not know what to do with herself.

I am at a loss to explain her sudden change, however I do not make mention of it to her.

I land the shuttle in the bay smoothly, and grab both of our flight bags as we disembark and step onto the deck of Sirius. As we cross towards the shuttle bay doors, they open and the ship's Captain and the security chief step through.

"Lieutenant Kim," the Captain greets me with a stern look.

"Captain Chakotay," I nod, maintaining the formality, as I place both bags down by my feet and step forwards to exchange a hand shake.

Quickly he pulls me into a hug with a rumble of delighted laughter, unable to maintain the professional facade. We clap each other on the back as we step away. I look at him and we share in infectious grin, "it's good to see you again Harry," he declares.

"And you," I agree, but even as I speak I notice his attention drawn away from me, and witness his smile soften. I turn my head and see his gaze has fixed on the woman behind me.

Kathryn steps forwards towards him, and reaches out as if to take his hand. However it does not become a hand shake, instead he takes her left in his right, and they squeeze each other's fingers, their eyes lock as something unspoken passes between them.

Chakotay leans forwards as if to kiss her cheek, but they both surprise me again and touch lips. It is by no stretch of the imagination an all out kiss, but the brief exchange holds such unrestrained passion and open love that I realise that they are both holding back in the presence of both myself and the security chief who has not yet been introduced.

The Captain reaches up a hand to cup her cheek as they pull back, and stares deep into her eyes. "I've missed you," he declares, his voice barely above a murmur.

She gives him a long look as if to communicate she feels the same way, but then she glances in my direction, and seeming to remember herself steps back from her former first officer. She does not seem embarrassed by the exchange, quite the opposite, as it appears to have calmed her previously frayed nerves. However I speculate that she is conscious of her surroundings, and that fact we are all currently on duty and therefore should maintain a degree of decorum.

It makes me wonder though... how they would greet each other if they were alone?

This last thought prompts me to consider if there is any meaning behind what I have just observed. Up until this point I was uncertain if the two were still such good friends as they were on Voyager, but this exchange is causing me to contemplate if perhaps they are now much more than that.

I am given little time to entertain this thought, as Chakotay shifts our attention to the other officer and introduces the three of us, before escorting us from the shuttle bay. We leave our bags, which will be taken to our guest quarters, and we are escorted to the briefing room where most of the senior staff have gathered.

Although we have had a long journey to reach our rendezvous point with Sirius, and I know Kathryn must be exhausted, especially now she has just entered the third trimester of her pregnancy, she delivers the briefing to the crew with an energy I am unsure how she has sourced. The Admiral provides them with their orders to deliver both her and myself to the heart of Romulan space, to allow her to meet with the Romulan government and smooth over the political waters following the recent incident involving the Enterprise.

When the officers have asked all their questions, and are in agreement with the mission, Chakotay dismisses all but five people from the room, so that only myself, Kathryn, the command team and security chief remain.

He waits until the door has closed, and we are alone, before clasping his hands in front of him on the table and turning his full attention to Kathryn. "I am assuming that Starfleet also wants us to take advantage of our venture into Romulan space?"

I am uncertain what Chakotay is making reference to, but Kathryn seems to know exactly what he is talking about from the slight acknowledging tilt of her head. "Naturally," she slurs, "but nothing too invasive. We just want to better understand their military strength. Keep an eye out for anything... unusual."

The Captain takes a moment, and lets out a long sigh before standing from his chair and moving to stand by the window, his back to the group. His first officer, Commander Channing, a gentleman in his early sixties, with a gaunt face and spidery limbs speaks up. "We should submit our last set of survey results and purge the data just in case we get stop searched by the Romulans."

It suddenly occurs to me that Sirius is not just here to investigate the Buoron rift, but also to perform military reconnaissance on Romulan territory to Starfleet.

"And what about the readings we obtain once we enter their space?" The chief of security asks.

"We should limit our scans to only the standard surveys," Channing insists, "anything further could be construed as invasive and in breach of trust."

"But that would severely limit the potential for tactical reconnaissance!" Lieutenant Belling sounds frustrated at the notion.

"Commander Channing is correct," Chakotay interrupts quietly from the view port, the two other men fall silent as if his word has settled the matter. I glance at the Admiral to see if she is in agreement, and I notice a small smile tugging at her lips. I realise why only moments later when the Captain continues, "under a silent red alert, the standard procedure would be to prioritise tactical intelligence." He turns to the superior officer in the room, "unless of course you have any objections?"

The Admiral holds up her hands, "oh no, this is your ship Captain, whatever you consider most appropriate given the circumstances."

"Can we justify a red alert?" the first officer interjects.

All eyes fall to Belling, the chief of security. "They were recently involved in the death of a highly respected and valued Starfleet officer. The precaution is acceptable."

Chakotay nods, "very well. Dismissed."

Myself and the two other men stand to leave, however I notice Kathryn remains seated and lingers in the briefing room to converse with the Captain privately. For a moment, it feels like old times.

Over the next couple of days, as Sirius takes us further into Romulan space, I do not see any further evidence to support my first suspicion of an affair, and I start to wonder if I had imagined the way in which they greeted each other on our arrival.

The Admiral and I spend long days preparing for her meeting with the Romulan government, a meeting which has become necessary due to the recent incident involving the Enterprise and the Remans. We are left mostly uninterrupted by the crew of Sirius, who go about their duties ensuring our safe passage through the unfamiliar territory. Even Chakotay keeps out of our way, only coming by at the end of his shift to check on our progress and to ensure I have not forgotten to feed or rest the pregnant Admiral.

As we slip into a business as usual mode, I start to reconsider the conclusion I had jumped to on that first day.

Kathryn only separated from her husband a few months ago; shortly after she discovered her pregnancy. Although she is technically not committed to Nicolas Jorski anymore, and therefore it would not necessarily be an affair, I do not believe that she would so quickly jump into a relationship with another man; even Chakotay.

I do not know the underlying reasons behind the breakdown in her marriage, but I am not deaf to the rumours. I understand that the Commodore resigned his commission shortly before their separation became formal, and I have heard that he went into rehabilitation for substance abuse a while after that.

There are theories that the Commodore threw her out of the house, and others that she left. There is also some gossip over the paternity of her child and that she had an affair, but there is little evidence to back that up. Some of the media have suggested that his recorded violence in battle leached into their marriage, and others have suggested she was the aggressor. I have heard that he was cold and that she was unloving. Each rumour contradicts another, or does not fit with how I knew either of them.

I have no opinion on the marriage or following breakdown, and no desire to enquire about it. Kathryn Janeway is a dear friend of mine, and if she does not want to discuss it, then she deserves my respect for her privacy.

The meeting on Romulus lasts two days. Although I am not supposed to participate in the political discussions, the Admiral pulls some strings with the federation ambassador to have me sit in. She tells me it will be good for my development for when I am a Captain myself one day, and offers me a wink before we head into the first briefing.

It takes me half an hour to recover from that compliment enough to concentrate on what we are discussing.

Watching Kathryn in action during the talks makes me realise what a natural diplomat she is, as well as a great leader, and I wonder if she missed a calling as a politician.

After each meeting Kathryn and I meet to discuss how it went. I feed back my observations and offer my opinions to both her and the ambassador, and we discuss strategy and our next steps to ensure the delicate relations between the federation and Romulan empire are preserved. Although the experience is intimidating, it is also challenging and enjoyable, and it makes me realise that this is something I may want to consider pursuing in my career.

When we return to Sirius, I feel worn and tired, but it is nothing compared to Kathryn, who is the picture of complete and utter exhaustion. She hid it well on that last day, even up until the final details of the renewed agreements were made, but as soon as we materialise in the transporter room on Sirius, her shoulders slump and she lets out a long sigh.

"I think I deserve a long soak in a bath tab after that," she announces as we step out of the transporter room.

I smirk, not for the first time hearing that she enjoys relaxing in a bath. "Just don't fall asleep and let the water get cold," I warn, then pull a cheeky grin, "if you want, I could come in and chuck in a bucket of warm water every now and again?"

She slaps me playfully on the shoulder, "don't make the mistake of thinking I cannot demote you back down to ensign, Lieutenant!" We laugh, and part ways, as she heads for her suite, and I make my way to my own temporary quarters on one of the lower decks.

I receive a comm. from Chakotay on the bridge after I have only been back for a few minutes. He is wanting a report on the outcome of the meeting whilst it is still fresh in my mind. I offer to meet him in his office immediately, but he suggests I take an hour to freshen up first, which I gladly accept.

When I sit down on my bed a wave of tiredness overcomes me. I only intend to rest my eyes for a few minutes, but as I lay down on the bed, the temptation to sleep becomes too much, and I feel my eyes grow increasingly heavy.

Although it is only seventeen hundred hours, I have not slept properly in days, and so I easily drift into a solid sleep. When I wake a while later I am momentarily disorientated. I am in the lull between dreaming and consciousness, it is when I remember that I have a meeting with Chakotay that I suddenly find myself very awake and alert.

"Computer, time," I call out, already knowing it has been more than an hour from the small layer of perspiration I feel over the skin of my forehead.

"_The time is twenty one hundred hours and eighteen minutes."_

"Damn it." I hear myself saying. I jump up from my bed but I am not sure where I am going. I have already missed my agreed meeting time with Chakotay, in fact I am over three hours late. I wonder why he did not call me, and consider that either something came up, or he suspected my exhaustion and decided to leave me be. Either way, I remember he was urgent to meet with me at the earliest opportunity, and although it is late, I know that he would probably appreciate an informal chat before he retires for the evening.

"Computer," I call out, straightening my jacket, "locate Captain Chakotay."

"_Captain Chakotay is in his quarters,"_ the computer's voice fills my quarters.

I hesitate, "is he asleep?"

"_Negative."_

With little more thought I leave my room and head for the upper deck where I know he resides. I briefly contemplate dropping by the Admiral's suite whilst I am on the deck, however I think better of it. She is most probably fast sleep by now.

As I am in the turbo lift a young Ensign walks in with me, and seems to stand at attention for the duration of our journey together. It reminds me of how I was almost eight and a half years ago when I joined Voyager. I was young, and naive and nervous around superior officers. I realise how far I have come since then, on first names basis with my former commanding officers, and about to drop by the Captain's quarters for an informal chat.

Having pressed the key for admittance to the Captain's quarters I notice I am waiting longer than I anticipated for a response. It suddenly occurs to me that perhaps he is preparing for bed, or maybe mediating and therefore not wanting to be disturbed. I am just about to leave when the doors slide open to confirm my first thought.

Chakotay is wearing sleeping shorts and top, his hair is ruffled, and he rests a hand heavily on the door frame in an unconscious attempt to block his visitor from the space. "Harry," he looks surprised.

"Captain, I er..." I stutter, suddenly I am that green ensign all over again. I had thought it was too early for him to be sleeping, clearly I was wrong. "I thought you wanted to be debriefed?"

He looks at me a long moment, and then his face erupts into the classic Chakotay grin he adopts whenever he has become amused by someone. "That was three hours ago Harry," he points out.

I cannot help but to share in his amusement. "I suppose I may have become a little sidetracked."

"Sidetracked?" he prompts.

Clearly I am not going to get away with this. "I fell asleep," I finally admit.

This just adds to my humiliation, and as I go a deeper shade of pink, he bursts out with a chortle of laughter. No sooner has the sound escaped his mouth, he quickly quietens himself, sobers, and shoots a panicked look in the direction of what I assume must be his bedroom.

"Are you alone?" I ask automatically, before I realise the question boarders on insubordination and most likely an overstep into his private life which our relationship does not warrant.

"Let's catch up in the morning," he does not answer me.

I raise an eyebrow as he looks to get rid of me. He almost gets away with it, almost, until a woman's voice calls out his name from a direction I know with certainty now is the bedroom.

A beat passes, but it feels like an eternity as certain things begin to make sense. The intrigue from Tom and B'Elanna about my impending trip, and the subtle requests to report back on how our friends were doing. Seven's adamant statement when I saw her last month, that despite the direction Chakotay's career appeared to be taking, his next step would be become a father. Kathryn's anticipation towards the end of our shuttle journey here, and the way in which she quickly calmed on our arrival. The protective way Chakotay would place a hand on Kathryn's shoulder in the evening and suggest she get some rest.

It is all coming together in one sudden movement. I would think I should have noticed it when I witnessed them dance during the Voyager reunion months ago. However, now I realise I should have seen it years before. The look of a jealous man when Chakotay mentioned her liaison with Jaffen and the distance that grew between them after we returned from Quarra. The way they held hands before our Captain purposefully went to get herself assimilated. The awkwardness between them after we rescued them from their desertion on an isolated planet. The banter and the flirtatious comments which quietly passed between them on the bridge. It had all been leading to something, but never I imagined it would be to this.

"Was that Admiral Janeway?" I probe, suppressing both a smile and the sudden thrill of happiness that courses through me.

I imagine he would be embarrassed at having been caught, that his face would turn a deeper shade of crimson than mine and that he would make an excuse to avoid me from jumping to the obvious conclusion. However he does none of those things. He just looks at me, a small and contented smile spread across his lips as he does so. "Good night Harry," he bids me, and with absolutely no apology closes the door.

For a moment I am frozen in place in front of the door. Have I just caught my two former commanding officers sleeping together? Literally.

I force my feet to carry me back to the turbo lift. Perhaps there was some meaning behind that kiss when we arrived five days previously. But whether it was a promise of something to come, or a reaffirmation of a promise they had already made to each other is anyone's guess.


	8. Chapter 8

Disclaimer: See Chapter 1

**Chapter 8: Tuvok**

Kathryn Janeway invites me to sit beside her on the couch. With precision she arranges the tea cups, pours in first the milk, and then the hot tea to scold the cream. Neither of us take sugar, but there is a bowl there anyway. I remember she told me once that the tea service had belonged to her grandmother, that it had sat on display in the old woman's house throughout her childhood, and it had been the one item that she had taken from the house on her grandmother's passing.

She is now seven months pregnant, and showing it easily. I have not seen her for a few months, so it is taking me a moment to adjust to seeing her this way. She looks radiant, and more relaxed than I have ever known her. She seems happy, despite the recent disturbance in her private life, and I wonder if the rumours of what brought about the end of her marriage are true.

"It's a shame that T'Pel couldn't join us this afternoon," she notes.

"She sends her apologies," I explain, and then nod distinctly towards her very pregnant form, "and also best wishes on the impending birth of your first child."

My good friend smiles gently, passing a hand over her swollen abdomen. "Thank you Tuvok."

I raise my tea cup to my mouth and take a sip, "I hear you recently returned from Romulus?"

She sighs at the reminder of her recent trip. "After Enterprise's encounter with the Remans, I was needed to go over and smooth our diplomatic waters," she rolls her eyes, "not that we had a good standing with them in the first place."

"I would not be surprised if your intervention alone helped to improve diplomatic relations," I tell her honestly, knowing that her style would most likely appeal to, and appease many of the Romulan governing council.

"That's kind of you Tuvok, but there is still a lot more work to do with them."

I nod solemnly, "I am surprised that Starfleet allowed you to go in your condition."

She raises an eyebrow, "my condition?"

I realise that she is pretending to take offense to my comment, but I have never risen to her bait, no matter how often she tries to tempt me. "I am referring to your late stage of pregnancy," I further clarify.

Kathryn smirks, but she does not cajole me any further. "There are fatter men in the Admiralty than me, I assured them I could carry the additional weight as well as any of them."

Even with child, this woman is relentless. However, I know that even though she makes a joke of it, she is careful and protective of her unborn child as she has been with every crewman under her command. She has cut down significantly on the amount of coffee she consumes. She eats regularly, and leaves her office at a reasonable hour. Due to the fact she went to Romulus, I am certain that it was under the belief that no one else would have been capable, despite the joke she makes of it now.

"I have no doubt of that," I agree.

She smiles gently and we drift into a comfortable silence. This affords me some time to take note of the new surroundings. Whilst she was married to Nichols Jorski they had shared a large house just outside the city. The accommodation was too large for just two people, with over ten rooms to the property set in grounds of over two acres. However, I have observed when humans reach positions of high power or acclaim, their habitation allowances tend to be increased significantly. As a Commodore and Admiral they obviously had very little limitation on where they lived.

Since their divorce however, Kathryn has moved into a penthouse apartment closer to the city. I consider that this space is much more reasonable than where she was living before, however it is no less grand. The entrance from the street is fronted by a doorman, and there is a security desk I had to pass through before I was allowed further admittance. The apartment itself is impressive, with a window which spans one entire side of the living area, looking out onto the city of San Francisco; and Starfleet's sky scraper headquarters' in clear sight. Although the space is modern and immaculate, I also think most humans would consider this place comfortable and 'homely' from the personal affects that adorn the place.

"Do you plan to accept the teaching position?" Kathryn prompts me back into discussion.

I give a slight nod in acknowledgement of her question, "my decision will depend on whether or not T'Pel agrees to take a research job she has been offered in Mexico. She is meeting with them this afternoon to make a more informed decision. If she agrees, then we will both permanently base ourselves nearby."

She grins, "then I hope T'Pel likes the position."

"As do I," I admit, "I must confess, although my return to Vulcan has afforded me a significant amount of time for meditation, I have become idle. I would be grateful to again be making a contribution by teaching at the academy."

Kathryn grins, most probably suspecting that my words disguise a human emotion such as boredom from my lack of recent activity. Perhaps she is right.

Our discussion moves on. She catches me up on the movements of the former Voyager crew. I am amazed at the detail to which she has kept track of each individual. It sounds like at some point in the last year and a half, she has made time to speak with every one of them personally. I come to understand she frequently meets with Tom and B'Elanna, and the three of them have become much better friends outside of the command structure which limited her on Voyager.

Her fondness of Harry Kim has not dissipated, she makes a note to talk with him at least once a month, and the two of them meet up whenever he is back on Earth. She mentions the names of several former crew who she is sponsoring within Starfleet, and others for whom she has found jobs on Earth, or elsewhere in the federation. It seems that even after our return from the delta quadrant, her care and concern for these individuals has far from wavered, in actual fact, I think it has increased as she has finally allowed herself to embrace it.

There are two individuals she has not brought into conversation however, and it is becoming increasingly obvious that she is avoiding bringing them up. As her friend and confident, I consider that she may benefit from talking about what has happened, as she often benefits from clearing her mind.

"Have you spoken with Seven recently?" I ask when the opportunity presents itself.

She looks momentarily surprised at the question I have asked, but quickly masks the emotion. "Not really," she tells me honestly, "I encountered her at the Federation ball a few months ago, however I felt... awkward around her."

"I assume because of Captain Chakotay?" I hazard a very well informed guess.

A sadness consumes her eyes, "yes," she admits. "I do not even know if she is aware to what extent I played a role in bringing an end to her marriage, but I feel too guilty to pretend otherwise with her. I was her mentor on Voyager, I did my best to protect her and help her become more human, but just as she discovers a new element of humanity, I betray her in the worst way possible."

I consider pointing out that infidelity and dishonesty are also elements of human relationships, but I know that was not a side of humanity that she ever wanted Seven to be represented with, especially not from her.

"So Chakotay _is_ the father?" I probe.

Kathryn nods is if in confirmation, but I can tell she is reluctant or hesitant to do so. "Chakotay intends to return to Earth in a couple of weeks, so that he is here before the birth. Although we are making plans to raise this child together... the distance is making it difficult to judge if we are making the right choices."

"Are you planning to co-habit?"

She shoots me a look as if to communicate that is one of the decisions she is second guessing. "Yes, but a baby will undoubtedly put a strain on us. I am not sure if our circumstances will allow us to build a relationship strong enough to raise a family."

I consider her words for a moment. I know that she is referring to the turmoil which forced them to confront their feelings for one another, and the people they hurt in their wake; she is worried that the guilt will drive a wedge between them. "There is a Vulcan saying that perhaps I should share with you," I have her attention, "_In accepting the inevitable, one finds peace._" I allow a moment for my words to sink in. "I have observed you and Chakotay for many years, and even a Vulcan can tell that you have feelings for one another. Perhaps if you discontinue your fight against them, they will lead you to a resolution."

Kathryn thinks about what I have said for a short while, before eventually her face transforms into a wan but sad smile, "thank you Tuvok."

I nod in acceptance of her thanks, but I am still concerned as to whether or not she will heed my advice. She has a habit for punishing herself unnecessarily, and unfortunately I have witnessed Chakotay suffer as a result over the years. I wonder if it is too much to hope that the two of them can finally come together and find peace in each other. Despite the poor logic of doing so, I still dare to hope.


	9. Chapter 9

Disclaimer: See Chapter 1

Author's note:

The next few chapters will change pace, as I go back and tell the story from a slightly different point of view... a quick look at the next few lines should leave you in no doubt as to whose side of the story will be told next.

**Part 2: As Themselves**

A month before the first Voyager reunion.

**Chapter 9: Chakotay**

The docking clamps drive down on the shuttle, and a loud thud reverberates through the hull. I disengage flight mode, and instruct the computer to open the doors. My only travel companion: Pioneer's chief engineer, grabs his tool kit from the side and follows me out onto the platform of deep space 5.

We are met by one of the station's security officers, who gives us the standard safety briefing. The engineer: Lieutenant Bernard, asks where we can find the supply store, and we are given directions.

The Pioneer suffered a core overload a couple of days ago, and fell out of warp. We managed to get the ship into orbit around a nearby moon, however we were unable to make repairs without some essential replacement components. I remember on Voyager B'Elanna would have found a resourceful workaround, perhaps modified parts from somewhere else in the ship, found a bypass, or salvaged some old Borg components. However, here, in the alpha quadrant, we have the luxury of deep space stations with a store of supplies for most repair requirements. Resourcefulness is no longer a necessity.

As we walk through the space station, I become aware of the deserted corridors, and I realise how late it is. I glance at the chronometer on my triquarder and realise that it is almost midnight UT.

When we arrive at the cargo hold, there is only one officer on duty. He is slouched against his console looking bored when we arrive, but snaps to attention the moment he sees us both. "Lieutenant, Commander," he glances at each of our rank insignia in turn, his eyes passing quickly over Bernard, but widening after his exam of me. I think he must recognise me from the news vids. "Commander Chakotay?" he asks slowly.

I smile patiently whilst Bernard searches for his component list. "Yes," I confirm.

"From Voyager?"

I see Bernard rolling his eyes out of the corner of my own, and suppress my amusement. I nod.

"Wow."

"Ensign, can you confirm you have all these supplies?" The engineer interrupts, handing him a padd.

He takes it, "sure," he agrees, holding it whilst he searches through the inventory. Without taking his eyes from the screen he asks me: "Commander, will you also be presenting at the federation conference tomorrow?"

The federation conference? My mind clicks over, and it suddenly occurs to me that deep space 5 was selected to host this year's annual event. "No," I reply, "we're just here to collect these components to repair our ship, we will be gone before the conference begins."

"That's a shame," he looks genuinely disappointment. "It would have been great to hear from Voyager's former command team this week." He looks up from the screen "sorry, it doesn't look like we have a modulation device suitable for your ship."

Voyager's former command team?

"What!?" Bernard steps round to view the screen of the console, "that can't be right, I checked with the station commander before we left."

The ensign reluctantly steps to one side to allow Bernard to perform his own search.

"Ensign, what did you mean by Voyager's command team presenting?" I divert his attention back to me.

He shoots me a worried look, thinking that perhaps he has said something out of turn. "I just meant that with Admiral Janeway presenting later this week, it would have been great to hear something from yourself."

"She's presenting?" My question is rhetorical, and from the way I murmur it to myself, the other man knows better than to answer it. A thought suddenly occurs to me, and my eyes snap back to the ensign, "do you know when Admiral Janeway is due to arrive?"

Bernard thumps his palm on the console, and swears under his breath.

The junior officer shoots an anxious look in the direction of the console, before focussing his attention back on me. "I believe she arrived earlier today," he replies.

A jolt of energy suddenly shoots through my body before the words have even registered in my mind. Kathryn's already on the space station.

It has been seven months since I have seen her, and two months since I have spoken to her, but the thought that she is now only a matter of a few hundred metres away from me causes a mixture of excitement and joy to rush through me. I try not to show any change in my demeanour, and remind myself that there is a possibility that the man could be mistaken... what are the chances that we would both end up on the same station, deep in federation space together? Not good. There must be a catch, or a misunderstanding, or some cruel twist which will mean that we just miss each other.

"Wait!" Bernard raises his voice, and for a moment I think he is speaking to me.

"We can adapt this modulator," he announces with a triumphant smile, and I realise that he is referring to the reason we came here.

The ensign moves to look at the device which has been found, "the modifications should take about five hours."

"That's too long," Bernard shugs off the suggestion, "we can do it aboard the Pioneer ourselves, just load it on to our shuttle as it is."

The ensign is about to agree to the command, but I realise the opportunity for what it could be just in time. "Actually, I would prefer the modifications are made here," I interrupt, turning my attention to the chief engineer who is just about to interrupt, "we don't want to have to make another trip here if it doesn't work."

Bernard considers me for a moment, before relenting with a nod. "Sure," he shrugs, "send the rest of the supplies to docking bay twelve and give us a shout when the modulator is ready."

We both thank the night duty officer and head out of the cargo bay together. Bernard suggests going to get a drink at one of the bars whilst we wait, but I decline the invitation, as I have already formed other plans. Despite the Lieutenant's lack of social graces, his rude and abrupt manner and low level of patience, he has one redeeming feature: he doesn't pry. I suspect this is due to the fact he probably doesn't care about anyone else, but in this moment, it is my saving grace, and I am not ungrateful for it.

He excuses himself to the bar alone, and I make my way to an access console in a secluded corner of the station's central hub. Using a few old Maquis tricks I am easily able to bypass the security codes to view the list of arrivals that day. Over three hundred people came through the station in the last twenty four hours, it takes me a few minutes to scan through to find the one name of interest to me.

I finally find it: Admiral K. Janeway, docking port twenty two, E-type shuttle, checked into the station's hotel at 17:05. It takes a few more tricks to gain access to the hotel guest list, but I finally locate her in room 202.

It is only after I have closed down the console that I start to doubt my plans to go visit her. It has been seven months since I last saw her, and a lot has changed. We are no longer Voyager's commanding officers, and for the first time in eight years we do not have a ship and crew to take care of. Will we still have anything left in common? We have rarely seen each other since our return to Earth... perhaps there's a good reason why.

Suddenly a doubt overcomes me. Will she even want to see me? It has been two months since we last spoke, and I remember the conversation had been stifled and impersonal as I apologised for my inability to attend her wedding. I hadn't meant the apology, and we had both known it. Like the few conversations we had shared since our return to Earth it had lulled as if neither of us had anything to say to each other. I wonder if like me she was suppressing everything that was unsaid between us.

For a moment I am back in her office only hours before I am scheduled to leave Earth aboard the Pioneer with my new wife.

"_Captain," I stand in her doorway, and she looks up with a look of surprise, briefly followed by delight in seeing me, and then by sadness when she recognises why._

"_You're about to leave?"_

"_In twenty minutes," I confirm, "but I wanted to come by and say goodbye personally before we leave."_

_Something passes across her face, but it is hidden before I can understand it. "I am glad you did," she stands from her desk and crosses over towards me._

_We both hover awkwardly for a moment, an awkwardness which has become customary now between us. I am not sure why this distance has grown. I think it must have been threatening us in the delta quadrant, but it did not become apparent until our return. She is first to break the silence._

"_I hope you know how much I appreciate that I had you out there in the delta quadrant." It is not the first time she has said this to me, but it has been a few years since I have heard it. "I do not think I could have asked for a finer first officer."_

_I glance down, slightly embarrassed by the compliment and the intensity and conviction with which she says it. "I would not have served under any other Starfleet Captain back then," I openly admit, I do not think I have ever told her this much, "but you showed me a way, and a peace I thought I had forgotten a long time ago."_

_My words are heavy and they hang in the air for a while before she bristles. "Well, try not to misbehave for your next Captain, and perhaps next time Starfleet will give you a ship of your own."_

_Kathryn is attempting to lighten the mood, and I am inclined to join her; this feels a little too heavy for us these days. "I heard a very reliable rumour they are making you an Admiral, perhaps you could put in a good word for me," I quip._

_She smiles briefly and nods, but she doesn't say anything. I am not sure she can. The intensity of this moment as we are about to say goodbye is becoming difficult for us both to avoid._

"_I'm going to miss you," I confesses, opening myself to her in a way that I have not done for years._

_I meet her eyes with my own, and am surprised with the mixture of emotions displayed openly within them. Joy at our recent return, blended with sadness from our imminent separation. Her natural courage fighting fear of the unknown which now faces us. Grief at all we lost along the journey. And a finally, love which is both unyielding and timeless. I know all of these emotions intimately, as they are mirrored in my own eyes._

_For a moment I doubt myself. I doubt my decision to leave, and take a command position aboard the Pioneer. I doubt the marriage I have committed myself to only a few days ago. I doubt the strength of the friendship with this woman which once seemed so vital and important. _

_I know why I have these doubts: I worry the moment that I step out of that door, I am not just saying goodbye for now, I am saying goodbye indefinitely. _

_How can I leave her?_

"_Goodbye Chakotay," Kathryn pulls me back to reality, and I am not sure if I should be grateful for it, or fight._

_She is smiling softly at me, but her words hold a finality to them, a finality that I will not understand for some time after this moment has passed. She offers her hand to me in a formality which has become a life line for us over the last few months, and now seems like the wrong time to question it. I take her hand in my own and we shake firmly. It will not be until later that I question why we did not embrace._

"_Goodbye," I return her smile._

_I find myself stepping back, and doing a mock salute, which causes us both to laugh as the tenseness of the moment is eased. We make some empty promise to stay in touch, and then I turn and leave without a backwards glance and hardly a second thought, my priority becoming getting to the transporter in time._

I have run over our last few minutes together in my mind countless times, to the point where I am not even certain what actually happened and what I have imagined. Did I actually do a mock salute? The thought of it makes me grimace. Did she actually dismiss me so readily, or was there also a reluctance in her eyes not to let me leave? Why was I so eager to make a quick departure? And why did we both make a promise to keep in touch, when neither of us have made any attempt to do so?

It also causes me to second guess my entire relationship with Kathryn. On Voyager our friendship felt so precious and spectacular. Years ago, there had also been the promise of something more, which had seemed rare and unique. Now I wonder not only if we are still friends, but if we had ever been so. Perhaps she had just manipulated my attraction to her to achieve loyalty from a rogue Maquis. Maybe she had formed an acquaintance with me because there was no one else, and I was both willing and convenient for companionship.

There is also the possibility that I used her. I was angry and looking for a cause to fight when we had met. She gave me a purpose I had been searching for when she offered me the position as Voyager's first officer. When I finally felt at peace, our friendship offered me the type of emotional connection I needed. But she hadn't been able to offer me enough. I had wanted much more, but I knew she was unable to give in her position, and therefore I never asked. Instead I took an opportunity with Seven, and realised through her the intimacy which I felt was missing in my life.

That last thought strikes a bitter chord through me. I realise now how selfish I have been. Seven approached me shortly after we had left Neelix in his new home. Although surprised at her interest in me, I was flattered and later blinded by it. She is beautiful and intelligent, but she is also young, and not just in age and experience, but also in attitude and approach to life. We are at different points. I am ready to settle and commit, and although I thought that was what she also wanted when she agreed to marry me, I now realise those were not her reasons. I believe she was scared of the future, uncertain what she would do next and how she would cope with changing and adapting to this new life, so she married me for security and to maintain some consistency in her life.

I think we both now know we made the wrong choice, and as a result it is causing a tension between us. She has realised it is easier to adapt than she had anticipated, and is eager to move onto the next challenge in her life. Our marriage is pulling her in another direction, it is forcing her to suppress her own desires, to make decisions which will please me, but only make her feel more trapped and miserable. Meanwhile, I am conflicted. I am desperate to make this marriage work, especially as I have come to love and care for Seven, but at the same time I consider the kindest thing would be to let her go, knowing that she will not make the move herself.

If I am honest, the problems in our marriage are the reason I took this mundane assignment to collect supplies. Truthfully, my presence on the mission was unnecessary, as the chief engineer could have selected any crewman to assist him. However I considered that the shuttle trip would do Seven and I good, it would give us a short reprieve from each other that we both desperately needed.

I have been so lost in thought that I have hardly considered where my feet have been carrying me until I have passed through the hotel lobby and I am ascending the stairs. My mind travels back into the moment, and I see I have arrived at the correct floor.

I step out into the corridor and count down the room numbers printed on each door until I find the one occupied by Kathryn Janeway. Instinctively I reach up to request admittance to the room, but I hesitate. It's late. Well after midnight in fact. I have known Captain Janeway to be a restless sleeper, staying up until the early hours with work or sitting in the mess hall with a cup of coffee. However, there is a possibility she has given up that bad habit. She may have been fast asleep for hours, and my late night call could disorientate and irritate her.

In all honesty I think I am making an excuse. I am scared to see her again. Terrified in fact. The doubts about the truth and depth of our friendship have surfaced and I am unable to shake them. She could reject me and ask me to leave, confirming my concern that our friendship was nothing more than a convenience to her...

No, that's not Kathryn, she would never be so rude. Instead she would smile gently at me and invite me in for a cup of coffee. She would carry on the pretence of familiarity for just enough to satisfy me, before she will point out the time and express her need for rest, providing a convenient prompt for me to leave.

I close my eyes at the thought and decide that it would be too much for me to bear. I miss her terribly, but perhaps it is just the memory or the illusion of her that I miss. Maybe it is better to live the delusion than to face this reality. We will see each other in a month at the Voyager reunion and shake hands and make jokes in the company of our former crew, and it will be easy. But here, now, just the two of us... I am not sure what we are, and I think that is a possibility best left open and unexplored.

I turn to leave, and head back the way I came. However something keeps me rooted in the spot. Something compelling me not to leave, telling me that I am making a mistake. I cannot explain the force which now overwhelms me, and compels me to turn back around, but when I do, I realise I am not alone.


	10. Chapter 10

Disclaimer: See Chapter 1

**Chapter 10: Kathryn**

I walk the deserted corridors of the station. Being back in space has brought back some old habits from Voyager, including my insomnia. Taking a walk through the decks is comforting, much like my midnight strolls through my ship. It gives me time to think, to clarify my mind, and make decisions.

There is hardly anyone about. I kind of like it this way. There is no one to stop and gawp at a celebrity admiral. To interrupt and ask me questions. To distract me from my thoughts. It is just me, the platform beneath my feet, and space.

I am here for the federation conference which begins tomorrow. It is a weeklong event, but I will only stay for the first couple of days before I head home to Earth. Tomorrow I spend the day pushing the development of trans warp technology, and in the evening I will be a special guest at the federation ball. After my presentation the following day, I will make my departure, and leave on a private shuttle.

I notice the time from a large clock in the central atrium: well after midnight, and decide that I should return to my room at least in an attempt to get some sleep before tomorrow. I consider calling Nicholas, there is a chance that he will still be awake, sat in his office working through the night. He would answer the comm., and smile, and ask why I am still up. And if he has gone to bed, he is a heavy enough sleeper to be undisturbed by the comm. noise, he would get up in the morning and see a missed call, and return it to wish me a good morning.

We married a couple of months ago after dating for only six. I think we surprised quite a few people with our haste, but to the both of us there seemed little point in waiting. We get on well, our life styles are very similar, and we were both ready to settle down. When we started discussing the possibility of children, Nicholas proposed, and I accepted. It seemed like the obvious next step.

He has issues though. I have only started to notice, and he assures me that it is fine, but I worry that it is only the tip of the iceberg. He has nightmares. He wakes up in a panic, drenched in sweat and disorientated. I will wrap my arms around him, and the comfort eventually settles him and allows him to fall back asleep. He will not tell me what he dreams about, but having been a Captain also, it is not difficult to imagine. Like me, he will have dark dreams, of regrets, of bad decisions, of enemies, of death. We are both haunted by our past, and in that commonality we find solace in each other.

What worries me most though is his use of medication. I was aware from the beginning of our relationship that he took drugs to aid his sleeping, but over time I have become concerned about his dependence on them. A few days ago I discovered pain medication he had obtained without a prescription and has no medical need for. I confronted him, and accused him of drug abuse.

We haven't rowed like that before. The fact that we did only further confirmed my suspicions. Nicolas had calmed by the time I left for deep space, and apologised for his reaction, promising me that I have nothing to worry about.

But I do worry. I worry about him, and about if we made the right decision to marry. And then selfishly I worry that I am not strong enough to carry both his burdens and my own. It is this thought which has been keeping me up tonight, which carries me through the decks of the space station, and back to my room.

As I reach the floor where I am staying, I notice a man wearing a Starfleet uniform stood outside the door to my hotel suite. I come to an instant standstill. My breath catches at the sight of this man, and I find myself frozen in place. I watch his profile as he raises a hand to knock, and then reconsiders, drops his hand and then stares at the door for a moment. Eventually, he shakes his head, and steps away completely, having made a decision not to disturb the guest: me. He turns away and begins to walk off in the opposite direction to where I am standing.

I consider calling out to him, to make my presence known, but my voice is caught in my throat.

However, he only takes a few steps before he pauses, again hesitating, as if wrestling with a decision. And then he turns to head back to the door and request entrance.

As he looks back round though, he must notice a figure standing staring at him, and his gaze instantly drifts up. Our eyes meet and lock onto one another, mine must hold confusion, his hold shock in one moment, and then something else I do not recognise for a while, but finally I do: longing.

"Kathryn?" Chakotay barely whispers my name, and his voice is a welcome sound that I think I had almost forgotten. I realise I miss the way his tongue curls around my name, how he articulates it, and varies his tone depending on his mood. He speaks it this time with something close to despair.

I find myself taking a few steps towards him. "What are you doing here?"

He blushes slightly, possibly wondering how long I had been standing there watching him. I wonder how long he was standing there hesitating outside the door to my hotel room.

"I heard you were here," the words slip out as if an honest confession he did not mean to make. He realises himself, and straightens somewhat. "On the station I mean," he elaborates, then shoots me that cheeky grin I know all too well, "I was passing through the area."

I raise an eyebrow. We have not seen each other in months. He left to become the first officer aboard the Pioneer, and we have hardly spoken since. I remember he called me shortly after my wedding to Nicholas, apologising for being unable to attend, but the conversation had been short, and stiff, and his apology obviously shallow. To be honest our friendship has been on the rocks for a long while, so I have made few, if any, attempts to keep in touch with him.

As we stand only feet apart from each other, all that has happened slips away. The distance that we created between us over the years closes, and every barrier we imagined is no longer there. Seeing him, I realise I have missed him incredibly, and I am unable to remember how we came to drift apart.

He closes the final gap between us, but hesitates before pulling me into an embrace. If we just hugged then it would mean that everything is okay, that our friendship is just as it had once been, that all is forgotten and forgiven. But he stops himself short, we are now only a whisper away, and this is suddenly more awkward that if we had simply embraced.

I end up making it worse in my attempt to make it better. I close the final gap and wrap my arms around his neck, leaning the side of my face against his shoulder. His arms come up stiffly around me, as if unsure what to do. This moment is possibly the most uncomfortable and painful that we have ever shared. For the first time in years we are ill defined and in flux. We have not yet established the rules of our relationship outside of the command structure, I don't think either of us ever realised that we would have to.

We pull back, and I am actually grateful for it. "Where's the Pioneer?" I ask, where's Seven?

"We lost inertia during our last warp flight. Every time we tried to move the ship it felt like my insides were being thrown against the bulkhead." He grimaces slightly. Usually I would laugh at his dry summary, but I don't, and I think he notices. "So we dropped to propulsion and found a moon to orbit. I took a shuttle here to pick up some supplies for repairs."

"Alone?" I ask.

He tips his head, but does not answer. "I've missed you," he confesses, and for the first time I notice his sadness.

I frown. "You could have called," I point out.

He glances away, "it's not the same," he points out, "besides, I wasn't sure why you..." he stops himself and takes a breath. "It doesn't matter, I shouldn't have come."

"No." I reach out and instinctively take his hand, he looks down at my grasp and then back up at me. There is something dark in his eyes that makes me feel ill at ease. I drop his hand. Suddenly I wish we had defined some more barriers before we embarked on this next stage of our lives... perhaps this chance meeting would have been easier. "I'm glad to see you," I reassure him.

Chakotay looks at me with a fraction of hope held in his eyes. I realise I have to do something to quell that hope, to establish a boundary that we should not cross. "How is Seven?" I ask, and instantly wish that I hadn't, as the light fades from his eyes.

"Fine," he says quickly, then seems to reconsider himself, and his face drops slightly. Finally my friend lets out a long sigh, "to be honest I can tell she hates being onboard the Pioneer. The crew irritate her, she finds her job mundane and unchallenging... and as a result, we are struggling."

For a moment I really feel for him, he is obviously having some difficulty in his marriage. With anyone else I suppose I would be offering an ear to bend, and some gentle guidance, however I find his relationship with Seven difficult to accept. When they first announced their association soon after Voyager returned, to be honest I could not have cared less. I was too busy with arranging our return to Earth, too caught up with guaranteeing the freedom of my Maquis and Equinox crew, distracted by reuniting with my family and friends and worn out by the debriefings which went on for ten weeks, that I hardly noticed the two of them as they grew closer.

I remember when Chakotay first told me they had begun dating. It had been briefly before we had disembarked Voyager, and I had not slept for thirty six hours. I am not sure what he was expecting, perhaps a jealous outrage, some tears, or bittersweet disappointment, instead all he got was a stiff nod followed by a tired smile as I wished them both well. It was he who had almost looked disappointed by my response.

It was only after the rush of our return was over that I really started to consider what we had missed out on. Earlier on in our journey there had been a spark between us, a promise of something more, if only the circumstances would allow it. On New Earth we had come dangerously close to losing those last remaining barriers, but Voyager had come to rescue us perhaps only days before we had taken that last step. Eventually though, that spark had fizzled into an intimate friendship which I had been grateful for and cherished.

The years however took their toll on us, and I realise now that I had started to take his loyalty and friendship for granted. I had abused his feelings for me on a few occasions for my own ends, and damaged our relationship as a result. Chakotay and I had drifted apart in those last couple of years, and undoubtedly he had seen Seven as an opportunity to develop the intimacy that he so desperately craved. The intimacy that I had spent too many years denying him.

I feel sorry for him for only fractions of a second, before a rush of anger flows through me. He made a choice to marry Seven, to leave with her the first chance he got. He chose to give up on us, on our friendship, and any lingering potential that there had been. And now that his marriage is not working out as he had expected, he has come to find me, for what? To wallow? To apologise? To get my advice, and help fix his relationship for him?

My tone is harsh when I finally ask him the question, "what are you doing here Chakotay?"

He is taken aback for a moment, unsure how I have switched in temperament so suddenly. He takes it in his stride however, as if he has almost prepared himself for this reaction from me, considered it a possibility, and has already come to accept that I would reject him. He shrugs, "I'm not sure... I guess I just wanted to see you."

"And now you have?"

His shoulders sag, "I suppose now I know."

"Know what?"

"That our friendship really is over."

His words are heartbreaking, gut wrenching... truthful? Is our friendship really over? Did we lose so much on Voyager that there is _nothing_ left to salvage? When I return to study his face again, I see such pain and hurt there, that I feel myself mirroring it, and suddenly I want nothing more than to comfort him, and make everything right again.

I reach up a hand to hold the side of his face, my fingers trace his tattoo, my thumb caresses his chin, his cheek, his lips. When he leans forwards to kiss me, it is the first moment that this encounter does not feel awkward. When he takes his strong arms around me it feels perfect, and natural. When I release the access codes to the hotel room it doesn't feel wrong, like I know it should.

Our kiss deepens, and the doors close behind us. He has me against the bulkhead, one hand on the wall to support himself, another on my hip both to support and caress me. He presses himself more firmly against me, and I recognise the desire in him as a accept my own for him.

Chakotay places a trail of kisses down my neck, as I take down the zip of his uniform jacket. His hands are everywhere on me at once, brushing my arse, cupping my breast, sliding up my inner thigh. We end up on my bed before I have really acknowledged what is happening, tearing off clothes between chaste kisses, wondering hands discovering new things about each other.

It is not quite as I imagined it would be. And I had plenty of time on Voyager to imagine. I thought that he would be either gentle or passionate depending on his mood, that he would be considerate regardless, and from time to time demanding. And although he is all of those things, there is another element that I had never envisaged: that he would be loving.

His caresses are not of a man seeking pleasure, but of tentative worship. His moves are not to achieve release, but in relish of each moment. His kisses are not hungry but searching and reassuring. And when he looks at me, and our eyes meet, it is as if he can will himself to read my mind, and share his own thoughts in return. We are in complete synchrony, and for the first time that we have ever been together, nothing else matters but the two of us.

Later that night, as he settles against me, his body curved up against mine, and an arm draped lazily across my body as sleep claims him, I consider what has just happened. I think deep down we both knew this would be inevitable the moment we returned to Earth. However, we had gotten so used to ignoring it on Voyager, by habit we continued to deny it on our return. He had been determined to give his relationship with Seven a fair chance, and by the time I realised what the two of them had become, it was too late for me to intervene. So by an unspoken agreement, we kept our distance, hoping that in doing so, whatever spark had been between us would eventually die out.

I realise now we had only ever left it smouldering. Waiting for an opportunity to reignite. Our chance meeting has created a flame, and I am worried that it could spread to a fire.

In Chakotay's arms I feel safe and loved, and I come to accept for the first time that I love him also. That it has always been him. That no one else is likely to compare. As I come to this conclusion a feeling of dread washes over me. How can I continue to love my husband when this other man has already taken my heart? How can I return to Nicholas knowing that he is not my first choice, that he is a safe and reliable second?

For a while I consider the alternative, of admitting my feelings to Chakotay. Perhaps he would decide to leave Seven, and we would make a go of it together. But I already know that the hurt we would leave in our wake would haunt us both, would keep us up at night, and drive a wedge between us. We would be unable to look at each other without being reminded of our mutual guilt. We would be judged not just by our friends and family, but also by the media and the public. It might last a few months, perhaps a year, but eventually the pressure would become too much. We would admit defeat, and part ways, promising to remain friends, but never doing so.

Our actions tonight however will have ripple effects. I was so close to loving Nicholas, but now I know it will never been the same as the way I feel for my best friend. My marriage will now be tainted by my indiscretion, and I will be forced to live a lie. But we have no alternative but to return to our lives, because it is too late to do a damn thing about it.

And in that moment I hate Chakotay.


	11. Chapter 11

Disclaimer: See Chapter 1

**Chapter 11: Chakotay**

Not for the first time in the last couple of weeks, I find myself staring at the screen of the computer. I am supposed to be writing a report on my latest away mission, but I am unable to concentrate on my work. I briefly consider calling her, but the thought is quickly dismissed as I am not sure what the time is on Earth, and I doubt she would welcome the call... besides, it doesn't seem right with my wife in the next room. I lean back and look up at the ceiling for a while, willing myself to be in any life but this.

I never thought that I would miss her this much, to be honest I never considered that I would ever have to. Although Voyager and the delta quadrant drove us apart, and forced a distance between the two of us, our circumstances also kept us together. We saw each other daily; on the bridge, in the ready room running through reports, at crew events, drinking coffee in the mess and in our quarters for dinner. There was a time that I had wanted more from her, but she offered me friendship instead, and I accepted and cherished what we had. It is only now that I realise I took her for granted.

There were times when I lost my temper with her when she failed to see reason. They were moments when I forgot the tremendous strain she was under; I expected her to be flawless all the time, given the circumstances perhaps that was unreasonable of me.

I failed to give her credit for the grace she handled loss and grief, the compassion she showed even enemies who did not deserve it, and the determination which eventually got the crew home. Instead I was critical that she lead with her emotions and trusted those who had not earned it. I even challenged her dedication to the journey, insisting on more than one occasion that we settle on a planet somewhere.

I do not regret our conflicts, she needed to hear my arguments sometimes; I think it kept her from going too far on more than one occasion. But have I ever acknowledged my lapses in faith? Admitted that I had also been wrong on occasion; the Borg, the Hirogen... Tom Paris... Seven?

The last thought scares me. I remember my reluctance to allow Seven to come aboard Voyager, and Kathryn's insistence to help the lost soul we had found. If she had never made that choice I would not have my wife. We may not have even survived that second half of our journey. This thought also reminds me of my betrayal, and I cannot help my mind drift back to that night.

_I had been fast asleep. The sound of my comm. badge chirping a second time brings me back into the waking world as I desperately try to re-orientate myself._

_The room is dark with only the starlight coming through the port hole. Something... someone stirs in the bed beside me, startling me for a moment. I am so used to sleeping alone, that the movements of another person send my body into a panic as my heart begins hammering in my chest. Seven is unable to sleep for more than a couple of hours at a time, so she usually slips out of our bed long before I wake up. This is not Seven; her smaller frame is stretched across the mattress, skin brushing softly against mine as she reaches down the side of the bed._

"_Bernard to Chakotay." The voice that woke me repeats, and suddenly it all comes flooding back to me. The space station, meeting Kathryn, the hotel room I unintentionally fell asleep in._

_My comm. badge is thrust in my hand, and I force myself to be more awake. "Chakotay here," I respond, aware of the lights in the room being activated to emit a soft glow._

"_Commander, we have obtained our supplies and should be ready to depart shortly." If the engineer knows anything about where I am and who I am with, his voice does not indicate it._

"_Thank you Lieutenant," as I say the words my gaze drifts up to admiring the perfectly cream skin of her back, the alluring curves of her hips and spine, the way her long hair feathers across her shoulder blades. "I am on my way."_

_I cut communication and reach out a hand towards her, but she stands and quickly pulls a robe around herself before my finger tips have even made contact. I pull back and subconsciously pull the sheets up higher around my waist._

"_I'm sorry..." I begin, wanting to explain my need to leave._

"_It's fine," Kathryn cuts me off, her head turning slightly so that I can see the profile of her face. "You should go."_

_I hesitate. I want to offer to stay, to be in a life where I would not need to leave her, ever. But this is not the life we had made for ourselves. We both have commitments, and even as we were in the thrust of making love, it was not without the knowledge that it was a stolen moment we were sharing. A curiosity that could no longer go unexplored, but a one-off event that neither of us could consider repeating._

"_The shower?" I ask, feeling slightly embarrassed that I did not bother to examine the layout of the suite before taking her in the bed._

_She indicates a door to the far right of the room, and I find myself moving swiftly towards it._

_I rush to complete a sonic shower, and a panic sets in at the thought Seven will find out what I have done, and I am forced to be not only quick, but also thorough. When I step out, I see that Kathryn had kindly folded my uniform on the chair beside the bath tub. _

_I cannot help my mind flashing back to New Earth, where we had shared a shelter for almost two months. I would come in through the front door and discard my jacket and boots on the floor, leaving a trail of clothes all the way to the shower room. When I would emerge, having cleaned a working days grime from my skin, I would find my boots had been put in the rack, my jacket hung up, and my clothes folded neatly on the edge of my bed. _

_I would be about to thank her, and explain clearing up after myself was next on my to do list, when she would shout from her office area: "you trampled mud through the kitchen again."_

_Sure enough, when I would look down at the floor, I would see she had left the muddy footprints for me to clean myself. I would chuckle at the thought that she was quite happy to pick up after me, but she drew the line at careless mess, and made no apologies when asking me to clear it. _

_The first couple of times this happened had been completely accidental, but after a while it became a game. I would see how much of a mess I could make, which she would be willing to take care of. She quickly cottoned on though, and began testing my limits, for example, on how often I would get up to make a cup of coffee for her whenever she asked. It was not until her ninth cup on the second day that I figured out her game. I was in the middle of making the drink when I suddenly realised what she was up to. Deciding to match her effort, I stirred in some milk and sugar into the coffee and presented it to her with a straight face. She did not ask me for another coffee that day._

_When I have finished dressing I emerge from the bathroom and walk back into the bedroom. Kathryn is sat on the couch with her computer console on her lap, her eyes transfixed on the screen. She is still in her robe, but I can see she has pulled on a night dress underneath._

"_Are we going to talk about what happened?" I ask, remaining in the doorway._

_She looks up at me, sinking back into the couch cushions. "I don't think you really have time," her eyes flick to the chronometer._

"_What about later?" I ask, "can I call you?"_

_I know her well enough to recognise when she purposefully ignores my gaze. "Chakotay..." she sighs, finally forcing herself to look at me, "I don't think that would be such a good idea."_

_I nod, finding myself looking down to examine the polish on my boots for a moment. "I should never have come..."_

_Kathryn stands from the couch, and crosses quickly over towards me, "don't," she insists. I shoot her a questioning expression and she clarifies, "let's not regret this, or let this come between us. This was... curiosity between two friends... it was a mistake. I don't want it to change anything."_

_I think we both know this was far more than simple curiosity. Yes, this was selfishness borne out of an unexplored mutual desire, but this was also love, and respect, and compassion. What I also realise now, is this has been inevitable the moment we returned. It was the reason that we distanced ourselves from each other, and have not kept in contact since. I welcomed the distance so I could concentrate on building a connection with Seven, and Kathryn allowed it to protect her former protégé. _

_She looks up at me now with such a pleading look in her eyes that I feel that I must give her anything, even if I do not agree with it. She is right, this was wrong, and we cannot allow it to change anything, or to hurt anyone else. "Very well," I yield._

_Her hand moves to my forearm and she gives it a gentle squeeze to convey her gratitude, before I find myself being escorted from her room. I step out into the corridor and turn back to face her, even in that moment regretting that I am leaving. Although I know she does not want me to, I lean forwards to kiss her goodbye. For a second I think that she will pull away, but she is far too graceful and polite to simply chuck a man from her hotel room in the middle of the night. So to submits to me, and allows me to press my lips to hers, in a bittersweet farewell._

"_Goodnight Kathryn," I say softly as pull away._

"_Goodnight," she bids me, and waits until I have turned to leave and taken three steps before I hear the doors swish closed behind me._

_I cannot help but glance back, perhaps in the hope that she is standing outside the doors to welcome me back, but she is not. _

The tap on my office door brings me back into the present moment. I allow her entry, and my wife steps into the space.

"Hi Seven," I offer her a weary smile.

"It's late," she points out.

I have been sat lost in thought for so long that I had not noticed the movement of time. "I hadn't realised," I confess, unable to stifle a yawn at the thought.

"I need to regenerate," she informs me, looking slightly apologetic.

I stand from my desk and step over to her, "I'll see you in the morning then Seven."

She reaches up and tenderly cups my cheek in her palm. She is searching for something in my eyes that I am not sure she will find, so I distract her by pressing my lips to her wrist, covering her hand with my own and entwining our fingers.

We kiss, but it is not passionate or loving, it is familiar and comfortable. Seven pulls back from me, dropping my hand, "goodnight," she bids me, before heading off to her alcove to regenerate.

I watch her leave for a moment, then I head to the bedroom alone. As I go through my bedtime rituals a sudden wave of loneliness overcomes me, a feeling that has been growing increasingly for some time now. Despite being married, there are times now where I feel more isolated that I ever felt on Voyager. Before I met with Kathryn a few weeks ago I was unable to explain why I felt this way, but since that night, the reason why has been becoming increasingly clear. It has now got to the point, where I am unable to avoid the voice at night which screams the reason at me. I am in love with Kathryn, and not with my wife.


	12. Chapter 12

Disclaimer: See Chapter 1

The morning after the Voyager reunion.

**Chapter12: Kathryn**

I am not sure how long I have been sat here on the bathroom floor. The reason why is held in my palm. Every now and again I will pinch the small pearl sphere in my finger tips and rotate it, wondering when my life became this complicated. I lean my head back against the cool tiled wall and will myself to get up, and do something about it, but I am unsure what to do.

My mind drifts back to the confrontation Nicolas and I had just before I left for deep space 5; I worry that we are about to backtrack on the progress we have made since. He is a caring and loving man, wonderfully entertaining and an easy companion. However the war with the Cardassians broke something in him, something that he keeps well hidden from the rest of the world, and tried but failed to hide from me.

He wakes in cold sweats screaming to save people who he lost long ago. There are moments during a conversation where a dark look will overcome his face, and I will know he is lost in memories of horrors. However those times are few and far in-between, considering his capture and subsequent return to command to finish the war, everyone comments on how well he copes. It took me a while to discover how he was coping.

The bathroom door opens, and a confused head pokes round to find me. "Are you alright?" he asks, tenderness and concern held in his expression.

I close my eyes for a brief moment, summoning the energy I need. Finally, I focus my gaze on him, and open my palm to reveal what I found on the floor between the gaps in the tiles.

Confusion clouds his face briefly before it is struck by recognition. He lets out a long sigh, stooping slightly in his posture, and then coming to his knees in front of me. He takes the pill from my hand and rolls it between his own fingers. Finally his eyes meet mine, "this isn't what you think," he begins.

"I don't need to hear this," I shuffle slightly with the intention of standing, but he places a firm hand on my shoulder, preventing me from leaving.

"Is this all you found?" he asks me.

"Is there more to find?" I counter.

He lets out a sigh and shakes his head, "I don't know where this came from, it must have been from before, when I was taking..." with great purpose he drops the spherical substance into the sink. "I promised you I was over it, and I am."

I want desperately to believe him, and the terrible thing is, I already do. When I found the pill I immediately jumped to the worst conclusion, but I put off confronting it, because I knew the moment I gazed into his dark blue eyes, I would be convinced of anything. Now I am unsure if he has convinced me of the truth, or another lie.

He takes my hand in his, and moves to sit beside me. "If _you_ don't believe in me, I am not sure who will," he admits miserably.

I rest the side of my head against his bare shoulder, and we sit in silence for a few minutes.

It feels like forever before Nicolas speaks again. "Are you still feeling sick?" he asks.

"No," I reply, thinking about it, I can hardly remember feeling ill now.

He reaches a hand to my forehead, "you don't feel warm, and you didn't have that much to drink last night," he concludes, "but do you want me to grab you a detox hypo just in case?"

"I should be fine," I reassure him.

He gives me a long look, before we again drift into silence. Both content to just sit with nothing but the sound of the tap dripping.

Yesterday was the first Voyager reunion. It was a wonderful night, and I was grateful most of the former crew were able to attend with their families. The formal banquet finished not long after midnight, and although I was invited to a more informal gathering at a bar down the street after, I thought better than to attend. On Voyager as the ship's Captain I would usually make an excuse to leave the parties before the drinking got out of hand, and I might be forced into a position of reprimanding the drunken officers. I felt my status of Admiral still denied me the same luxury now.

Besides, I was so worn out when we returned home that I could have fallen asleep as I walked up the stairs to the bedroom. It was about that moment, when I was at my most exposed and open state, that Nicolas asked me a question I had be dreading.

"_What does Chakotay mean to you?" _I sat up a little straighter on the bed, and saw Nicholas stood in the door frame, an expectant look on his face.

"_Chakotay?" _I repeated, unsure where the question had come from. _"He was my first officer on Voyager... we were good friends."_

"_Are you in love with him?"_

As always, my husband was direct and to the point. Usually this quality settles me, that night, it irritated._ "I love _you_," _I redirected.

"_You're avoiding the question. Is he the reason you're suddenly reluctant for us to start a family?"_

"_You're out of line," _I retorted, and meet his steady gaze with anger held clearly in my expression.

Nicolas stood there, staring at me for a few long seconds, most likely battling with his urge to continue pushing me. He must have decided better of it, as his shoulders slumped and he walked through the bedroom to the other side of the bed, dropping the topic completely. I had considered asking him what had brought that line of questioning on, but I was reluctant to ask, for fear he will be right.

Chakotay propositioned me whilst we were dancing. I couldn't agree, but I also couldn't turn him down. I thought that I had hidden my reaction to his presence well, that I had buried my feelings for him so deep that they would never be uncovered. I am worried that Nicolas has seen something that I was attempting to hide even from Chakotay. If my husband noticed it from the other end of the dance floor, I am concerned as to who else may have seen it also.

Back in the present moment Nicolas squeezes my hand in his. "I'm sorry about last night," he tells me. I am unsure if he is redirecting from a conversation about substance abuse, or it has been plaguing his mind.

"It's fine," I shrug off. Of all the topics he could have chosen, this is the last one I would wish to explore.

"It's just, I see the way he looks at you, and I don't like it." My stomach muscles tighten at his words, and I do not trust myself to comment. "Then I see the way you look at him... I cannot help but feel jealous."

Nicolas is confirming my worst fear, and I worry if he asks me again about the level of intimacy I have shared with Chakotay, this time my response will have to be a lie. "You have nothing to worry about," I tell him quickly.

"I am trying to be a good husband," he confesses, "but I worry that if I fail you, and you don't trust me, then it will drive you to him."

"You're already a good husband," I needlessly remind him, "and I'm not going anywhere."

He lets out a long breath, "promise?"

I just kiss him, it seems as good as a promise. Eventually we move up from the bathroom floor and get showered and dressed before leaving to spend the day at my mother's house in Indiana. However Nicolas's words haunt me, as I wonder if our argument before my visit to deep space 5 led me more willingly into Chakotay's arms, or if it would have happened anyway. Either way, I feel more determined than ever to prevent it from happening again. Nicolas _needs_ me. Chakotay has Seven.


	13. Chapter 13

Disclaimer: See Chapter 1

**Chapter 13: Chakotay**

I have now officially taken command of the star ship Sirius. The command codes were transferred to me in a small ceremony only an hour ago. The vessel's previous Captain and two Admirals were present, as we performed the traditional relief. In just a few days we will depart Earth, and in all likelihood I will not return for another six months.

Half a year... it seems like a long time when I think about it like that. Some Voyagers still haven't left Earth since our return over a year ago. Many of the crew took positions planet side, living near the family and friends that they dreamt of returning to every night on Voyager. Quite a few left Starfleet altogether, to find themselves quieter lives elsewhere.

Our journey in the delta quadrant impacted us all differently, but there are still quite a number of us, like myself, who accepted our confirmed ranks and promotions and have taken postings aboard ships and stations.

There was a time on Voyager where I would have been more than willing to settle down on a planet somewhere, find a wife, perhaps start a family. When I returned to Earth, I had found a wife, but settling down was furthest from our minds. We were both restless. At the time, I thought it was because we missed space, missed the everyday bustle of a ship. I now realise it was because without the distraction of a ship and a mission, we were just two lonely people keeping each other company.

I feel harsh thinking about it like that, but it is the truth. I loved Seven, I still love her... but not the way she deserved to be loved by a husband; and she was starting to sense it. I suspect on Voyager we would have been too consumed with keeping ourselves and the ship in one piece as we faced threat after threat. What we had would have probably been enough. We would not have noticed the drawn out silences, the absence of passion, and the lack of love; we would have been too distracted.

Back in the alpha quadrant though, it wasn't enough, I wasn't satisfied with what we had, and I realised I was stifling Seven. Whilst I pursued my career, and took an assignment that boosted it, she took a less than challenging posting aboard the same ship in order to stay close to me. She was meeting new men, was discovering more about herself, and probably realising that there were more suitable partners for her than me.

I feel terrible about the action which later became the tipping point. The affair that woke me up to the reality, and caused me to reassess our relationship, and the direction our lives were taking. One night with Kathryn was all it took for my world to crumble, for me to finally see what I was doing, and I didn't like myself; I still don't.

I didn't tell Seven about what I did. Even as we sat down and discussed where we should go next, I was able to avoid the topic of the other woman altogether. I know Seven wanted to ask if I intended to pursue Kathryn; she has been oddly curious about my relationship with her for a long time. But I don't want to hurt either woman, I don't want to further the rift between them any more than I already have.

As I return to my temporary office, I see that the door is slightly ajar, and I find myself wondering if I left it that way.

I gently push open the mahogany door, although I am quiet, there is a slight creak in the hinges that gives me away. My visitor, who I can now see stood facing out the window, turns to me.

My heart jumps up to my throat, the same way it has the last three times I have seen Kathryn Janeway. But this is the first time she has come to see me alone since that night.

"It's a beautiful view from this side of the building," she makes small talk.

I shrug, "I haven't had much time to admire it the last few weeks."

"How are preparations for your first command going?"

I perch myself on the edge of my desk, I can tell she is building to something, but I decide to embrace the small talk before she gets to the purpose of why she is here. "I met Sirius's first officer last week, and have filled the last few positions on the ship. I hear you have just been given a new assignment also?"

Kathryn eyes me carefully, I can almost see a gleam of humour in her eyes. "That's supposed to be confidential."

I smile, she still can't figure my ways of getting information, and I enjoy taunting her from time to time with that fact. "I have my sources," I tell her cryptically.

She almost smiles, but then her face drops, and her gaze drifts out the window of my office. I can tell she is troubled by something, but I wait patiently for her to come out and tell me what it is in her own time.

I propositioned her at the Voyager reunion. It had only been four weeks since I had last seen her, but it had felt like a lifetime. I had felt desperate to see her again, to make love to her and hold her in my arms, and never let her go.

Kathryn turned me down though, but gently. She placed a hand on my chest and shot me a pleading look, and although I saw desire in the depths of her eyes, I also saw guilt, and pain, and regret. I was hurting her in that moment almost as much as I was threatening to hurt our partners. So I retreated, as I had so many times before on Voyager.

However, unlike on Voyager she did not offer me friendship in return. She gave nothing. Leaving me no hope to hold on to. It was intentional, and she was right to do so. I was still with Seven, and she still felt awful for her betrayal to her husband. To continue our unusually close friendship after what we had already done would be too great a temptation.

I am surprised she has come to see me today, and alone; to make small talk and engage in banter with me, especially after she made it so clear before that we could never have this again. I wonder if she has changed her mind. Perhaps she has finally come to accept the same truth that I have known in my heart for years: that we are in love.

"I'm pregnant," she tells me, and then waits for my reaction.

Shock. Surprise. Hurt. Disappointment. Each emotion must dance across my face like reading a book to her. I swallow down the last one, and try to make eye contact. "Congratulations," I find myself saying, "I'm very happy for you," and I mean it. I know how desperately she wanted a child whilst we were on Voyager, it seemed like a cruel punishment that our situation denied her that right.

She doesn't look happy though. She looks sad, and almost frightened. I want to go to her, to take her in my arms, and make everything alright, but I know that the action would not be welcome. So instead I remain on the edge of my desk, gripping the top to keep me positioned exactly where I am.

"I'm not sure if Nicholas is the father," she finally confesses.

The blood instantly drains from my face, and I stop breathing. I know exactly what she means. "How far along are you?" I ask.

She eyes me carefully, as if to say I should know the answer to that question. "Is it a possibility?"

I glance away, unsure I can think straight anymore. She is asking me if my contraceptive boosters were up to date, if there is a chance we could have conceived this child together, almost two months ago, on a deep space station, where we were never even meant to meet. I honestly can't remember; the possible consequences of what we were doing at the time were furthest from my mind.

"I guess so," I stutter.

"Chakotay," she insists, "I need to know. This isn't a time for guessing."

I can tell that she is stressed, it is the only time she loses her temper. I open my mouth to apologise, but before I do, I realise something that I know will change my life. I _want_ this child to be mine. I _want_ this to be the catalyst which ends her marriage to Nicholas. I _want_ her to chose me.

My silence is enough, and she straightens up. "Fine, I need you to agree to a genetic comparative test."

I frown, I have known her long enough to know what she is trying to do. She is attempting to hedge her bet. If it's not mine then she doesn't need to confess, she won't lose anything and she can return to her marriage as if nothing happened. If it is though... I am not sure what would happen.

"What will you do if it is mine?"

She avoids eye contact, and shakes her head, "I'm not sure," she admits.

Kathryn is uncertain, and I recognise this as one of the few times where her feelings can be exploited. I jump before I have even realised what I am doing. Quickly I step away from my desk and towards her, "leave him Kathryn," I insist, no, I plead, "I don't care if it's mine or not, I will love you and this child more than my life. Chose me."

"I can't," she refuses, and there are tears in her eyes as I rest my hands on her shoulders. "What we did has the potential to hurt too many people. I can't do this."

"You would rather we spend the rest of our lives hurting each other instead?" I ask rhetorically. "Kathryn, for once be selfish, break the rules and ignore every barrier we have created. Forget about rank, and duty and what is right and wrong. Chose _us_."

"And if Nicholas is the father?" she demands, creating another barrier between us, "I chose him, and we chose to start a family together, I would be taking that away from him. Chakotay, think about what you are asking me to do."

I let out a frustrated sigh. There is one thing about Kathryn Janeway which makes me lose my cool, and that is to watch her blind herself with duty and self sacrifice. I watched her do it on Voyager when she made a treaty with the Borg and almost killed Noah Lessing. I am watching her do it now, with the future of her unborn child.

"And what if I'm the father?" I press, and let the words sink in for a moment. She tries to turn away, but I reach my finger tips under her chin and gently tilt her face up toward me. "What if I am the man you come home to at night? Who you share your bed with? Who you raise your child with? What if I am the man who loves you more than he has loved anyone else in his life? Would you deny me that chance?"

"Chakotay," she raises her palm to press against my chest. It is something she has done to me a thousand times before, and I know her touch so intimately that I can feel the weakness in her hand... in her resolve. "We missed our chance."

I tenderly caress her face, allowing my finger tips to trace to cheek, to lace into her hair, and tuck a stray strand of hair behind her ear. "I don't think we ever gave ourselves one," my voice cracks with emotion, and it comes out as barely a whisper.

She sighs, it is gentle, but signals her first defeat. I take the moment as it is, and envelop her into my arms. The great and brave and fearless Starfleet hero collapses against me. Her strength is drained and so she draws from mine as I continue to hold her. The battle is not yet over, but I have my first victory, as she submits to crying against my shoulder.

Spirits I love this woman.


	14. Chapter 14

Disclaimer: See Chapter 1

**Chapter 14: Kathryn**

The rain has soaked through my clothes and I can feel the cold damp against my skin. Droplets of water fall from my nose and bottom lip, and instinctively I wipe a hand to clear my face, although the action is in vain with the downpour now so heavy.

I have circled the block a couple of times now, and again I come back to Chakotay's residence. I stand on the opposite side of the street and watch the entrance way, trying to ascertain whether or not I should go in.

It was only a couple of weeks ago that I discovered I was going to be a mother. Since then, my entire world has been turned upside down. I went to Chakotay as soon as I had summoned the courage to tell him, and although I had foolishly hoped that he would approach the situation with the same rationale that I was attempting, he broke through my last ounce of resolve when he pleaded for me to choose him. I remember that look on his face, which portrayed his love and devotion, and I found there was nothing I could deny him anymore.

I chose him, and there was no going back from that moment. A couple of days ago we sat and discussed what we would do next. I do not think we have ever spoken so honestly and openly before. Chakotay told me how he had been unable to forget our encounter on deep space 5, how it had forced him to accept that his marriage was over, and lead to his recent separation from Seven. I finally admitted to the doubts in my own marriage; in Nic as a husband and potential father, and my stubbornness to try to make it work, despite how unhappy it was making me. It was a difficult conversation, but necessary to make the decision we both so desperately wanted to make: to be together.

The chill in the wind as I stand outside finally catches me, and I weigh up my options: I could transport to my mother's. However I can imagine the sudden stream of questions and concern I will be bombarded with, and even the thought of it overwhelms me. Alternatively I could check into a hotel. The idea of running a warm bubble bath, drinking a mug of cocoa and being left alone with my own thoughts for a while is almost too appealing to pass up. I could deal with Chakotay, my husband and the rest of my life another time.

However that is not where my subconscious has been leading me. I have been circling this block for over half an hour now, debating whether or not to enter. If I am honest, I am scared to take this last step. Chakotay and I have spent the last eight years dancing around each other, and this final move on my part will set us on a course we will be unable to turn back from. Although the possibility of what we could become is exciting, it also terrifies me.

Without noticing I have crossed the street and I find myself in the foyer with a security guard (who must recognise me from the new vids) waving me towards the lift. Suppressing my fear of the uncertainty, I make the fast decision to head for his apartment.

It feels like an age whilst I wait for his door to be answered, and doubts slowly start to creep into my mind. Will Chakotay welcome me into his home, or will things be awkward between us as we realise our mistake. Does this mark the start of a new chapter between us, or the beginning of our end. Am I really ready for this?

It is that last thought which lingers as the front door finally opens, and a tall figure still wearing his uniform stands before me.

"Kathryn?"

Chakotay's voice is cautious, curious, worried... wonderful.

Words fail me. What am I doing here? I suddenly realise I am far from ready for this.

The man opposite me guesses my uncertainty as he takes my presence in his stride. "Are you alright Kathryn?" his words are spoken so softly they almost melt me.

I look away, "I don't know," I confess, "I've left Nic."

He stands in the doorway for a moment longer, most probably deciding what to do with me. "You're soaked," he states, shooting me an admonishing look. Eventually he closes the distance between us and rests a comforting hand on my shoulder, "you should come in and warm up," he suggests.

I find myself barely able to nod, but I must do so, as he takes my hand gently in his and pulls me into the apartment. He shuts the door behind us before he leads me to the couch. "I will get you something warm to drink," he tells me as he heads over to the kitchen.

I think he will continue, but when he doesn't I glance up to find out why. He is standing by the replicator, a hesitant look on his face. Long seconds pass, and eventually he looks over to me. "I was about to order coffee," he tells me, "but I'm not sure if you're still drinking coffee now..."

"Coffee sounds wonderful," I reassure, and shoot him a fleeting smile.

He returns the affection before requesting two of the hot beverages.

Chakotay walks over with two steaming mugs, one black, which he hands to me, and the other with cream and most likely also sugar. He sets himself up in the arm chair opposite, purposefully keeping a physical distance between us. Somehow he has sensed that I am having second thoughts about being here, and he is both respectful and polite of it.

We sit together in silence for a long while, both alone in our own thoughts.

I never imagined I would be in this situation. I felt guilty enough at having had an affair, to now be pregnant possibly as a result of that fling seems like someone else's nightmare.

I think I know who the father is, but not with complete certainty. Either man is not ideal. Nicolas is a good husband, but he has issues, problems which were already giving doubts as to his suitability for fatherhood before I got into this mess. All that we could possibly have worked through, but the bottom line is that I do not love my husband; at least not in the same way as I love Chakotay.

Glancing subtly at the man sat across from me, I fight the urge to crawl into his big strong arms. Chakotay is one of the most wonderful men I have ever met, he is intelligent, and witty, and not to forget devilishly handsome. But I have a complicated past with him; I was his superior officer for seven years, and we spent so long putting up barriers between each other, that I am not sure we would be able to overcome them. Then of course there is Seven, who he only recently separated from; no doubt when this all comes out, she will discover the truth of our betrayal.

"I'm sorry." Of all the words to break the silence, those are the last I would have expected.

Shooting him a confused expression, I ask: "for what?"

He tugs gingerly at his earlobe, a sure sign he is uncomfortable. "Everything." His answer is no less opaque, and after a beat, he expands. "I should have waited for you," he confesses, "I was flattered by a younger woman's attention, and foolish to explore it. I should have known better."

Brushing off his apology I shake my head, "you are hardly at fault. I could have said something. I sensed that you wanted me to intervene, but I was so determined to let the future play out, that I never considered it would be different this time. That all of our self imposed barriers would fall away so easily..."

Chakotay studies me carefully, "will you always regret what we did?"

He wants me to say that one day we will put it behind us. That I will hold my child for the first time and not care how he came to be. That one day I might be able to forgive myself for what I have done to hurt two people who meant so much to me. But he knows me better than to hope for that. "Yes," I reply at last, and he does not look the least bit surprised by my answer, "will you?"

A bittersweet smile spreads across his face, "I don't regret a single moment of it." He glances down at the floor, ashamed by his own confession, "I am not sure what type of man that makes me."

I place my coffee mug on the table beside me. I cannot bare to see the pained look on his face. He may not regret what happened, but it adds to his guilt, and weighs him down the same as me. I cross over to him to take his hand in my own. He looks up at me with a mixture of hope and gratitude. As he pulls gently at my hand, I find myself moving onto his lap, resting in the safety of his embrace.

Kisses are placed against my collar bone, my neck, my chin, and finally my lips. It is not a seduction, but a reaffirmation of his love for me. Eventually I rest my head on his shoulder, and we sit like that for a long while. There is an unspoken agreement between us not to talk about it any further. To leave the morning to take care of the future. Right now it is just about comfort and reassurance.

As some point I must fall asleep, because when I wake a few hours later it is in the bed beside him. He has carried my tired form into the bedroom, only removing a few items of my outwear to avoid disturbing me too much, before lying me between the sheets.

He has undressed down to his underpants and t-shirt. I know this because I feel his naked legs beside mine as I move to cuddle up close to him. He barely wakes as he pulls me close, his heavy breathing soon returning as he continues to slumber. Although there are many uncertainties ahead of us, in that moment I decide that I do not want him to be one of them. Tomorrow morning we will have a long and proper talk about our future, but right now, I will just continue to enjoy being close to him.


	15. Chapter 15

Disclaimer: See Chapter 1

**Chapter 15: Kathryn**

The briefing room door closes behind Harry Kim who is the last to leave, and Chakotay and I find ourselves alone together for the first time in months. His attention has returned to the stars, and a few beats pass before either of us say anything.

"I know what you're thinking." He tilts his head slightly with curiosity, so I continue. "This mission is risky, and I should have known better than to accept it considering it is more than just my own life that I am risking now." I rub my temples having gone over this argument in my head so many times already, "but if there's a chance I can make a difference..."

I trail off and dare to meet his gaze to gauge his reaction, but when I finally look back at him, I see that he is suppressing a smile. "What?" I cannot hide the irritation from my voice.

Holding up his hands defensively he crosses the room and takes back his seat, "nothing." I shoot him a pointed look. "It's just that for over eight years now, I have played devil's advocate for you, and now you're doing it for yourself. I don't think you need me anymore."

He fakes a pout and I roll my eyes. He is incredulous. When he eventually sobers, and his expression turns more serious, he reaches a hand across the table to cover mine. "Just promise me you're going to be careful," he requests.

Absently I pass a hand across my belly. His eyes travel down to examine the bulge, and I am not sure if his next words will be flattering or comical. After dinner with Tom Paris last week, I am not sure I can tolerate any more fat jokes, so fortunately it is the former. "Pregnancy suits you," he assures me, leaning forwards and pulling my hand up to kiss the back of my knuckles, "you look spectacular."

I roll my eyes and wave off his compliment. "I don't feel that spectacular," I confess, "if I am this uncomfortable at six months, I worry how bad I am going to feel in another three."

Chakotay simply shakes his head, "it will be worth it."

I squeeze his fingers.

There is so much more we both want to say to each other. There are even words on the tip of his lips when we are interrupted by his comm. badge as he is requested back to the bridge. He shoots me an apologetic look before responding that he will be there imminently.

"Will you join me for dinner later?" he asks as we stand from the table.

The invitation seems so formal for two people expecting a child together. However I understand his cautiousness; despite our current predicament, our long friendship and the close communication we have retained over the last few months, this level of intimacy is still new to us. We haven't even discussed where I will be staying for the duration of my visit aboard Sirius, let alone what our accommodation arrangements will be when the baby arrives. This dinner invitation is a neutral medium to start with.

"Of course," I accept, and he escorts me from the briefing room and back onto the bridge.

On duty Chakotay and I are quickly able to slip back into our professional roles. In front of his crew he addresses me with the same respect he would offer any visiting Admiral, whilst still managing to joke with me like the good friends that we are. When he offers Harry and I a tour around the ship, he touches me subtly on the shoulder or lower back from time to time without raising any suspicion. Finally when he escorts Harry and I in our temporary office to begin our work, he is careful not to mention our dinner date later.

We have not made a decision to be covert, but we are purposefully being discreet, in an attempt to protect both our professional and personal lives. We are reluctant to make an official declaration of our status together, until we are sure it will be permanent. Also the Starfleet rules we operate within require a certain level of decorum which we must respect. It will take a while though for us to realise the perfect balance.

Later that evening I appear at Chakotay's quarters dressed in a simple blue dress, pleased to find that he too has dressed down to chinos and a casual shirt. I hand him the bottle of synthohol, and he kisses me tenderly on the cheek, inviting me to sit down at the dining table.

Whilst we eat the lasagne he has cooked from scratch we easily slip into conversation. Catching up on our friends, sharing stories of recent events and reminiscing a little about the delta quadrant. I think we are both careful to avoid certain topics, but we each slip a few in there to test the waters. He asks me questions about the baby, and conveys his excitement in wait of the arrival, whilst I invite him to place his hand to my belly to feel the kicking. I dare a couple of questions around his career plans at the end of Sirius's mission, and he delicately suggests they will align with my own.

After desert and then coffee a natural lull occurs in our conversation, and I cannot help but yawn.

"You're tired," he states. We have retired to the sofa, I am reclined in the corner with my legs arched over his lap, and he has one hand placed on my thigh, and moves the other to gently squeeze my shoulder.

"I suppose I am," I shoot him a small smile.

I witness a hesitant look pass over his face, and know instantly he is uncertain about what to say next. He pinches his ear lobe. "I wasn't sure where you would want to stay whilst onboard, so I made arrangements for the guest suite."

I gaze fondly across at this man who has been my closest friend for so many years now, it feels like I have never been without him in my life. And in all the time I have known him, he has never been anything less than a gentleman; this time is no exception. I reach for his hand on my shoulder, and we slot our fingers together, his tan complexion contrasting my creamy white skin. "I'd like to stay here, with you," I say at last, knowing that one of us will have to make the first move.

He grins before responding, "I was hoping that you would."

Finally he gives himself permission to close the remaining distance between us, and not just physically, but emotionally also. I think he needed to hear me express my desire to be with him, before he was willing to take that last step. That night he is tentative and delicate with me, he tells me things that I have never heard him say out loud before, and opens up to me in a way that is both overwhelming and precious.

I force past my instinctive hesitations and self imposed restraints, because I know he deserves so much more from me than I have given him in the past. And I think somewhere we start to find that balance we have always been searching for together, some of those answers to previously unspoken questions, and we finally embrace a love we have kept hidden and tucked away for too many years.

The following two weeks we continue to explore this new level of intimacy which we now share. The days are busy with our respective duties, but the nights are long and fulfilling in companionship together.

It is my first night back from Romulus when I notice his absence from the bed. I reach across and find a cold spot in the place where he should be. Without thinking I call out his name, and there is a long unanswered silence to my question. Then I hear talking, two men. I cannot hear their words, but I can identify their voices: Chakotay and Harry.

Suddenly I realise my mistake. I must have been woken by their conversation, and my calling out has probably alerted Harry to my presence here. I find myself smiling when I realise I don't care anymore.

The doors to the Captain's quarters hiss shut, and soft footfalls move from the living space to the bedroom. Even though there is no other light than that provided by the stars out of the port hole, he expertly navigates his way back to the bed, the mattress sinking slightly under his weight as he rejoins me.

"Was that Harry?" I ask as he pulls me towards his body, nestling me in the crook of his arm.

"Uhuh," he replies, a soft kiss being placed to my temple.

"I don't suppose we got away with it?"

I can feel his grin through his entire body, "people were going to find out sooner or later." Chakotay places a meaningful hand on my belly, and I know what he is trying to say. Whether we are ready or not for our relationship to be made public doesn't matter, the approaching arrival of our child will soon ensure no one is left in any doubt as to the nature our connection.

I exaggerate a sigh, "well, at least this means the end of the betting pool on us."

"Oh, I wouldn't be so sure," his voice is smug.

Tilting my head up at him I shoot him a curious look. "No?"

Chakotay laughs, and I feel the reverberations through his chest. "There's still marriage, divorce and perhaps a second child to bet on."

I swat his stomach with my palm, "hopefully not in that order."

He captures my hand in his, and raises it to his lips, kissing each finger tenderly in turn. The man is insatiable, but I am unable to deny that I cannot get enough of him either.

We stay awake for the next few hours, making love and talking, then making love all over again. Pillow talk is not far from the conversations we had after late night dinners on Voyager, the topics are same but more intimately explored, the flirting is still there, but followed through with a touch or a kiss. I am amazed at the similarities between what we have become and what we were before, and realise that despite how huge this leap together felt, in reality it was nothing more than a small step.


	16. Chapter 16

Disclaimer: See Chapter 1

AN: Apologies for the delay in updating. I needed to do a rewrite of the last chapters, and only just found the time. Thanks for all your reviews, and patience; Hopefully the next update will not take so long.

**Chapter 16: Chakotay**

I can never tire from watching this woman sleep. Kathryn is sprawled out on the bed beside me, one arm flung above her head, one leg across the sheets. She looks peaceful and fragile in this state, and a few years younger with the worry lines absent from her face. My hand is rested gently on her stomach, rising and falling with each breath. I feel our child kicking against my palm, and I am amazed how she can sleep through it.

This last night together onboard Sirius reminds me of our last night on Earth before I left for my command assignment. Like tonight I had found myself wide awake, mesmerised with watching her sleep.

Following the breakdown of her marriage I had offered her to stay with me until I left for Sirius, but as I had expected, she gently turned me down. She didn't have to explain that she needed some time and space to sort out her life, and properly end her marriage; we both knew. Besides, neither of us wanted to stir up any greater scandal than we had already set ourselves up for; I too would need to talk with Seven at some point.

So she left, and although we spoke over the comm. throughout the next few days, I did not push her to meet with me again. We would have plenty of time to be together in the future; our entire lives I hoped.

She had turned up at my door the night before my departure. I didn't question her presence, despite the late hour. She offered me her hand, and I took it, symbolic of some of our significant moments together.

"I love you," she had told me as we entwined our fingers.

Although it was the first time I had heard her say those words, they were not as Earth shattering as I had thought they would be. I suppose we had both known it for so long, that verbalisation of the truth was just another self imposed barrier to fall away.

The next morning I left her with a kiss that promised so much more than I dared to say and that she was willing to hear. We had only spoken one promise to each other: to not let there be any more barriers between us. Everything else would unravel at our own pace. And it is.

We have made some significant decisions since. When I return from this mission I will make her residence my permanent home. I will spend my month of shore leave with her and the baby, and although I hope she will return with me to Sirius whilst I continue my command, I am prepared to request a position at headquarters or resign my commission if it will mean keeping our family together. Whatever happens, we are both dedicated to making this work.

My thoughts drift back to the present, to the room I am failing to sleep in. To the woman laying beside me. I will never sleep at this rate.

I climb out of the bed and head to the living space of my quarters. Whilst there I replicate a glass of warm milk.

As the drink materialises, I notice my console is flashing. I investigate and find that I have missed a call from my sister. Knowing that she will likely be fast asleep by now, I make a note to return the call tomorrow evening.

I saw Sekaya a few weeks ago. She was passing through the area and decided to come by to and visit me aboard the ship. She stayed for a few days, however it was not until the third day of her stay when she finally got round to asking me about Kathryn.

We were taking a stroll through the airponics bay, examining the flowering plants when she broke the comfortable silence. "So tell me about Kathryn?" her voice was soft, but her words exactly to the point.

I rolled my eyes at her. There are two things about Sekaya that have never changed over the years. Firstly, she doesn't start a fight she cannot win. Secondly, she doesn't beat around the bush. "What do you want to know?" I decided not to volunteer anything unnecessarily.

The woman sighed with exasperation. "When I asked you about her on your return you insisted she was just a friend, and I allowed you to leave it at that. Now, I hear the two of you are in a relationship, don't expect me not to interrogate you for every detail."

We stopped by some basins of exotic fruit and I dropped her arm from around mine as I took a step away. I gathered my thoughts as I examined the plants, and she allowed me the moment. It was not that I did not want to talk about my new relationship, it was just difficult to know where to start.

"Kathryn's amazing," I turned back to Sekaya, "she makes me feel completely at peace with myself, whilst at the same time she can ignite this great fire in me." I emphasised with my hands and then offered her a grin. "It's difficult to put into words how she makes me feel... but I have never loved another woman like this before."

Sekaya smirked, "and there have been enough women for you to make a good comparison."

I shrugged her off, "Perhaps. What I have with Kathryn is as close to forever as I have ever come."

The woman across from me raised an eyebrow, "I can see that, you have committed to raise her child together. That is not the type of promise a man like you would make lightly."

At the way she described the child as Kathryn's, I glanced away, considering if I should tell Sekaya the truth. There was a weight of guilt I had carried with me for some months, and in a way I was appreciative that Kathryn wanted to keep our relationship discreet, because it had allowed me to avoid confessing to my betrayal. "I already consider the child mine, regardless of genetics," I told her at last, "but there is a possibility that I am also the biological father."

My sister looked instantly stunned. Then the shock grew on her face as she realised the implication of my words. "The two of you had an affair."

It was not a question, it was a statement. I conceded with a nod of my head anyway. "My marriage to Seven was already over," I defended my actions, "but Kathryn's doubt over the paternity became the catalyst which ended her marriage."

Sekaya let out a long breath and took a hand to her forehead. I could instantly tell she was disappointed with me. "Chakotay!" she exclaimed, but never quite completed her admonishment of me before she stopped herself speaking, taking a second to digest what I had told her.

"There is nothing you can say that can make me feel more terrible," I told her.

"Does Seven know?"

I tilted my head in a short nod. "I spoke to her a few weeks ago... she was far more forgiving than I deserve."

This seemed to ease my sister's immediate anger towards me, and she leant back against one of the plant containers. "You said there was a chance you were the father, you're not certain?"

"When the baby arrives I suppose we will know definitively," I shrugged, "but Kathryn's ex-husband doesn't care, he has walked away regardless, and I don't need to know; I am already the father in every sense that matters."

This time she sucked in a sharp breath, "you're playing a dangerous game Chakotay. You might feel differently when you see that baby and realise he has none of our family in him."

I shook my head. "Then I will love the child all the more, for the mother I will see in him instead." I shifted my weight on my feet slightly to a more comfortable position. "I am not fathering this child out of obligation or guilt," I assured her, "but because I am in love with Kathryn."

"And what does Kathryn think about this?"

"She thinks I am being a stubborn mule." I laughed at the thought, as those were her exact words one night as we spoke over subspace. "She has all the same concerns you have raised."

"And what about our grandfather's 'crazy' gene?"

I wonder if Sekaya considered that Kathryn and I were completely reckless, "the baby doesn't have it. We checked."

The woman suddenly grew quiet. Although she did not inherit the gene from our father either, I think she recognised that made my paternity over the child less likely. "You're really ready to be a father, either way?"

I smiled, "absolutely."

Speaking with my sister reaffirmed my feelings. Sekaya always challenges me, pushes me into other ways of thinking, and whichever way I looked at the situation with her, the more confident I felt at the choices I was making.

Back in the present moment I finish off my drink and place the empty mug back in the replicator. I watch it disappear back into thin air for a second before heading back to the bedroom.

The bed is bathed in a soft light from the stars which stream past the port hole. Kathryn is still fast asleep, completely none the wiser that I have been absent for the last few minutes. I watch her for a short while, noting the mess of hair on the pillow, the gentle movement of her chest as she breathes slowly and the small contented smile spread across her lips as she dreams. I will miss her tomorrow night when she departs Sirius, and every night after until we see each other again.

As I climb back between the covers she instinctively snuggles closer to me, resting her head on my shoulder, and draping an arm across my chest. My last thought before I fall asleep, is that I do not think this moment could be any more perfect.


	17. Chapter 17

Disclaimer: See Chapter 1

**Chapter 17: Chakotay**

Twelve hours. These have possibly been the most tense twelve hours of my life. I had just come off shift when the call came, and I could not sleep after. She was able to speak to me, and assured me it was fine, that she was okay, but her words were not enough to settle me. I should have been there. We had discussed the prospect of me returning to Earth earlier, but she had insisted that I make no alterations to our flight plan; now I wish I had not listened.

The transport to the hospital seems to take an age. I have to be granted special permission to directly disembark Sirius and get beamed to the emergency transporter pad. I think some strings are pulled given her status, and eventually the request is accepted.

The moment I materialise I am instantly disorientated. I have never been here before, and I do not know the first place to start looking for her. The transporter chief in the hospital notices my confusion, and after asking my destination, points me in the correct direction.

As I walk to the ward, I take two wrong turns in my haste, and I realise I am nervous and therefore not thinking straight. I know which room it is straight away when I arrive, by the sight of a security guard standing outside. Only Kathryn Janeway would need a security detail in a private hospital wing.

I take a few minutes before I approach. I try to calm myself down, to prepare myself mentally. I glance down at the flower in my hand, remembering the first time I gave her a rose and the spark in her eyes as I presented her with it. I have given her flowers many times since, but this time will be different, this time it will not be a gesture of friendship, or an intention of my feelings, it will be in recognition of her sacrifice for me. A token to thank her for what she has put herself through to bring our child into the world.

The security guard recognises me, and nods approval for my admittance to the room.

My eyes lock on her instantly. She is laying in the middle of a large bed, most of the covers discarded down to her waist, and a book held loosely in her hand. She is bathed in the soft light emitted by a lamp on her bedside. I quickly realise she fell asleep whilst reading.

The doors hiss closed behind me, and the noise is enough to wake her. Her eye lids flutter open, and I find her looking directly across at me. "Hey Kathryn," I greet quietly, extending my hand slightly so that her attention is drawn to the single rose I am holding.

"Chakotay..." she begins to sit up, but appears to be struggling to wake up properly. I quickly cross over to her, and bend down to press my lips to hers. I can tell she is still tired from her inability to respond. When I pull back I offer her the flower, which she gladly accepts, holding it delicately in her hands, and smelling the bloom before she returns her gaze to me.

"I'm sorry," she apologises, "I tried to stay awake for you, but I must have drifted off."

I cannot believe she is apologising for falling asleep after an exhaustive labour. I am unable to help the smirk that consumes my features as I take a seat on the edge of her bed. "It's quite alright," I reassure her, reaching up to cup her cheek in my palm. She turns her head slightly in my hold, and places her lips against my wrist. It is all the encouragement I need, and I move my hand back to lace fingers through her hair. She tilts her chin up slightly as I lower my head further and descend my lips on hers.

Our second kiss is intense and heated and silently communicates how much we have missed each other during our last three months of separation. I hope also she can sense the love I hold for her, radiating through me, and threatening to consume us both each moment that I breath.

The sound of a small cry interrupts us, and I pull back in surprise at the sound. My head turns, and it is only now that I am aware of the hospital basinet on the other side of the bed to her. She notices my shock, and I see humour in her eyes as she covers my hand with hers in an attempt to calm me. "Perhaps you should go and say hello to him," she indicates.

I stand from the bed, and slowly make my way over to where the baby lays. He is wrapped loosely in blankets, and is whimpering to himself. I am astounded by how small he is, I have to remind myself that he is only a few hours old. I can see instantly his mother in him: her fiercenesses and wonder. Although I cannot see myself there, I love him already for the man I know I will one day shape him to become.

I reach forward and lift him up out of the basinet, and into my arms. He wriggles in my hold, until he gets comfortable. He is the most beautiful and amazing thing I have ever seen. I kiss him on the forehead, and make a quiet pledge; the same promise I made to his mother all those years ago, "I will always be at your side little warrior, and your needs will always come first."

I sense Kathryn's eyes on me in my peripheral vision, and when I turn to her, I see tears shining in them. She looks overcome with emotion, but I don't really understand why.

"Do you mean that?" her voice cracks slightly.

"Of course," I reply quickly, still confused by her reaction. As she shoots me a grateful smile, and I realise why my words have had such a profound effect on her. Despite my promises to her over the last few months that I wanted to raise this child with her, and make a family together, she has not really believed it until this moment. Perhaps she was worried that I would change my mind, or that my promise would falter when I finally met my son and I accepted the reality of what I was embarking on with her.

I move carefully to sit back down beside her. I adjust our son into the crook of my arm, and reach out to place a hand on her shoulder. "When you were busy trying to get us home, this was what I dreamt of," I tell her. "I dreamt of you, of being able to love you, and feel you love me back." Kathryn places a hand behind my neck, and I take my cue to kiss her again. I pull back slightly, and murmur against her lips, "I never dreamed of having a child with you also, because it seemed too much to hope for."

"I love you Chakotay," she confesses.

"Good," I smile, "because I am completely and irrevocable in love with you: Kathryn Janeway."

The baby between us protests, and we both chuckle slightly, pulling apart to give him some space. She takes him from my arms into her own. I watch the mother hold my child for the first time, she is so tender and careful, and the sight of them together is wonderful.

She lowers the top of her silk night gown to reveal her breast. As if she has done it a thousand times, and not just a couple, she adjusts the baby so that he is able to suckle. It takes a minute or so for him to take, as he is also new to this, but eventually he begins to feed. The sight melts my heart, and I find myself reflecting on the years I spent never knowing that this moment was awaiting me.

I am grateful to the boy who joined Starfleet, despite the pain it caused both him and his family, because it set me on this journey. I feel sorry for the man I became, who could never find a love that satisfied him. I am critical of the Maquis who shed blood and took lives out of anger and hatred. However, I am now content with the first officer who shied away from his feelings for his Captain, who I once resented for torturing me with a love I could never imagine being returned. I am ashamed of the husband who failed his wife. Finally though, I am at peace with myself, a father at last, and a friend, and lover, and partner for life, to a woman I believe I have always loved.


	18. Chapter 18

Disclaimer: See Chapter 1

**Chapter 18: Kathryn**

I hear a loud bang from the hallway moments before I witness Chakotay enter our apartment. The box he is lifting appears heavy, and I suspect he almost dropped it a few seconds ago. "Is that the last of it?" I ask from the sofa, with our son: Mallin fast asleep in the basinet beside me.

He drops the box on the floor by the dining table, "I hope so," he replies before glancing at the eight other boxes which he has yet to unpack. "Is there enough room for both our stuff?"

"If not, you might have to get rid of some of yours," I suggest.

He grins at my joke, but does not retort immediately, "you might regret saying that," he says cryptically, before lifting the lid from the box he has just carried, and rummaging around inside it. I shoot him a curious expression, moments before he produces a book. "Dante's Inferno," he declares, waving the pages in the air.

"You still have that?" I allow a hint of mock irritation enter my voice, "I _leant_ you that years ago."

He just chuckles, "I think about half of my library belongs to you."

I narrow my eyes at him, "just as well you've brought it all back."

Chakotay shrugs, but then his expression turns more serious as he purses his lips. "I found something else whilst I was sorting through everything earlier," he tells me as he slowly starts to cross the room towards me. "Something I meant to give you years ago... but there was never the right time."

The humour of the moment fades as I see the intent look on his face. He reaches into his pocket and holds out his clenched fist, slowly opening his fingers to reveal a beautiful blue, grey and gold pebble. I look up at him with a curious expression, and he indicates for me to take the stone, which I do so with some uncertainty.

"This was one of the few mementos I took from new Earth," he tells me at last.

I feel a sadness consume my features as he brings up the planet. Our stay there brought us so close together, within a whisper of what we have now, and therefore our departure had been bittersweet.

"After the call from Tuvok came, I could tell you wanted to be alone for a while," Chakotay explains, "so I went for a walk into the forest, until I found myself at the river we had only just been making plans to sail down. I think all of my emotions came to the surface at that moment: disappointment, relief, anger..." he physically shrugs off the memory. "I started throwing stones into the water to vent, and it helped. After a while I calmed down, and I began skimming stones to pass the time before I had to face you again. I am not sure how long I stood there by the water, but I was just about to throw my last pebble, I checked my hand, and found this..."

I look down at the rock in my hand, it feels like silk and looks like marble with streaks of gold running through it.

"Most of the pebbles were black or grey, but this one... it must have come from elsewhere on the planet, perhaps moved by the flowing water or the local primates. For whatever reason, it seemed special, and I decided that I would take it back with me to give to you." He pauses a moment, "but when I returned to our cabin, you were already packing up... and you didn't seem in the mood to receive this type of gift from me."

I sigh heavily, "I was avoiding you; I remember," it is the first time I have admitted this, I look up and meet his eyes, "I'm sorry."

Chakotay offers me a tight grin and shakes his head, to indicate that the apology is unnecessary. We still have a few daemons between us, but he does not want to revisit them this evening. Tonight, I think he just wants to give me this gift; everything else we will resolve in its own time. Knowing this, I smile shyly across at him, "thank you," I tell him, glancing back down at the intriguingly coloured stone, "we should put this on display."

"You're sure?"

I nod confirmation and walk purposefully towards the mantel piece, placing the beautiful memento in the centre, before glancing back for my partner's approval. Chakotay steps closer to examine, "you don't think it will be overwhelmed by your pool trophy?" He slips his arms around my waist, and pulls me against his body.

I relax in his hold as I glance fleetingly at the ugly gold plated cup I won from Tom Paris at the last pool tournament held on Voyager. Normally it wouldn't be on display, but as we are entertaining Tom and B'Elanna yesterday evening for dinner, I put it up there to annoy the runner up. "I doubt it," I reply unnecessarily.

He laughs, and his humour is infectious, instantly lifting the moment. He nuzzles my ear, and the feeling is more than welcome. I turn in his arms to face him, locking my arms around his neck as he kisses me sweetly, tenderly and deeply. Just as the thought occurs to me that I can never have enough of his man, our son who was sleeping behind us wakes up with a cry.

We both laugh, and pull apart, "it's almost like he knows," Chakotay says with mock exasperation as he steps over to the basinet.

With great awe, I watch as the man I love lifts our child into his arms. He rocks Mallan, little warrior, gently, willing him back to sleep. Eventually the boy settles, and I see both father and son gazing at each other.

My son is only a couple of weeks old, but as he stares up at his father I am almost convinced that he is not just sharing his gaze, but also his soul. I can almost imagine every moment they will ever share, those first words and steps, Mallin's first day at school to his last. Chakotay teaching him to ride his first bike, and failing to show him how to start a fire. Our teenage son outrunning his father as they race, and purposefully then slowing down for the last few yards to allow him to catch up.

I can see the love Chakotay already radiates for his son being returned by a fully grown man, who comes home during the holidays until he eventually finds someone else to share his life with. I can already see the pride in Chakotay's face as we watch our son marry, and feel how his grip on my hand will tighten during the ceremony. Finally I acknowledge myself as part of every moment, as not just a mother to our son, but also a friend, a lover and partner for life, to a man I know I will love for the rest of my life.


	19. Chapter 19

Disclaimer: See Chapter 1

**Chapter 19: B'Elanna**

A wisp of air comes in the from the sea, crosses the shore line and passes through the beach. Goose bumps prickle at my skin, so I decide to move closer to the fire, feeling the sand beneath my feet grow warmer as I approach.

The baby in my arms finally stops fussing, and closes his eyes as his head rests against my shoulder. I continue the rhythmic rubbing of his back to encourage him to go to sleep, and it appears to be working... up until some idiot in a Hawaiian shirt taps the microphone on the stage, sending a loud crackling noise through the speakers. "Ladies and gentlemen," Harry announces, "please welcome to the stage Frankie and the Grasshoppers."

I would be annoyed at Harry setting the baby off crying again, but looking at the excitement on his face as the jazz band start up, is enough for me to instantly forgive him. The Voyager crew who are hovered around the stage clap to welcome the band to the celebration. Whilst some of them wander off from more drinks and food, some of the Voyager's move closer to partake in the dancing. Four hours into this reunion, I think it is safe to say many of them are drunk enough for this activity.

Between the music from the band as they start playing, and the baby's cries, I only just about hear the stoic voice which interrupts from behind me. "Would you like some assistance?"

I turn and see Tuvok has joined me on this side of the beach. He has forgone the oversized shirt, but is fashioning a lei around his neck. I shoot him a grateful smile, "if you don't mind," I reply, and hand the small boy over to him.

The moment Mallin enters his godfather's arms his crying instantly ebbs, as he gazes up wonderingly at the man's face. I did not know Tuvok had this talent until Miral was born, but the man is amazing with babies. I am not sure if it is the way he holds them, or rocks them, or talks to them... but he is able to sooth the most turbulent baby in an instant. T'Pel must have been very grateful for this talent with all four of their children. I know I am right now.

"Has he been abandoned by his parents?" I consider this to be as close to a joke as Tuvok is willing to come.

I grin, "I wanted some baby time, so I offered to take him off Chakotay's hands for a few minutes."

Voyager's former security chief raises an eyebrow. "Then I hope you do not mind?"

I hold up my hands, "after twenty minutes of crying, I am just happy to be able to hear myself think again."

He nods, and then takes a moment adjust his hold of the child. The boy's gaze on the man appears to lose focus as Tuvok gently rocks him, and not before long he starts to fall asleep. Whilst this is happening, Tuvok asks me about my latest project at work, and we spend some time together catching up.

This is Voyager's second reunion, and unlike the first which was hosted by Starfleet and very formal, this gathering was organised by Tom and Harry; hence the beach location, bonfire, spiked punch, hog roast and jazz band. Not that anyone is complaining, quite the opposite. The setting it beautiful with a sunrise setting across the ocean, sending shots of coloured light across the waves. The informality of the evening has allowed everyone to catch up, relax and enjoy being together again. Many of the Voyagers have brought their own families, who are becoming like an even further extended family as their faces become more familiar with each wedding, birthday or other social event which has been organised over the last couple of years.

Just as Tuvok has finished telling me about his latest teaching classes at the academy, familiar arms encircle me from behind, and a kiss is placed on the side of my forehead. "Hey Tuvok," Tom greets as he drops his arms from around me, "are you having fun?"

The Vulcan raises an eyebrow, as if to remind Tom the his species do not have 'fun'. "The location is appropriate, and your choice of music band is... entertaining."

"That's good enough for me," he claps the man on the shoulder. "So, have you been watching them dance?"

We are both about to ask who he is referring to, but we need not. As our eyes shift across the beach, we both witness them at the same time as Chakotay catches Kathryn Janeway in his arms following a small spin. She slaps him playfully on his shoulder, but they both laugh delightedly as they move energetically to the music.

"Have they been drinking the punch?" I ask, unable to take my eyes off them.

"I believe Kathryn is slightly intoxicated," Tuvok notes. We both glance over at him, and he expands, "I may have seen her drunk on one or two occasions in the past; this is not one of them."

"I don't think Chakotay has touched a drop; I think he's driving them back later," Tom points out.

I shrug, "I guess this is why they always left parties early on Voyager... to avoid a spectacle."

Tom chuckles, "a spectacular spectacle," he notes, "they look so happy together."

I put an arm around my husband, "you're such a sap," I roll my eyes, but cannot help but agree with him. A year ago there had been such unrestrained passion and pain in their dance, I had almost felt sorry for them. Watching them now, my heart swells with the joy they are emitting.

Despite the moment I cannot help my mind wandering to the other piece of heart ache I had felt that evening exactly a year ago. Although Seven and I had never been close on Voyager, I have cared for her in my own way for a long time, and the thought of her in the middle of that mess was almost as sad. Iscan the boarders of the gathering and see her chatting with the Doctor. She appears relaxed, smiling and laughing with the man who is so much more than a hologram to us all. I wonder if perhaps they will eventually find something much more than friendship together. Glancing at my husband I am reminded that greater odds have been beaten in the past, and this provides me some assurance.

"Would you care to join me for a dance?" Tom offers as he finds me looking up at him.

I glance at Tuvok as if to question if he minds continuing to baby sit. He nods for us to go ahead, signally that he is fine to continue with the care for as long as needed. I shoot him a grateful smile, as Tom takes my hand and whisks me closer to the stage. As we approach Chakotay notices me and hesitates in his movement as he notices I have lost his son. "He's with Tuvok," I shout above the band.

Kathryn realises her partner's distraction and rests a hand on Chakotay's shoulder, shooting us both a curious look. Chakotay takes a moment to confirm my words for himself, scanning the outer group for both Tuvok and Mallin. He must see them both, as his expression relaxes, and he shoots me an apologetic smile, as if to say sorry for the unnecessary panic. I grin, being an overprotective parent is not a surprising trait to see in this man; Chakotay could be overly protective of me too at times, it makes sense for him to be far worse with his own child.

Just as Tom grabs my hand and pulls me towards him for a slightly closer dance hold, I notice Chakotay lean over to whisper something in Kathryn's ear. I imagine that he is explaining the change of baby sitter, as she rolls her eyes and tells him not to worry so much. The tempo picks up for a popular song, and suddenly we are separated from the other couple as a swarm of our extended family join the dance area.

At some point Harry joins us with Miral, spinning around with the toddler held in his arms, and the remainder of the evening passes in a happy blur, filled with family and friends, chatter and laughter, and not for the first time, I am grateful for the journey which brought us all together.

_Almost the End!_


	20. Chapter 20

Disclaimer: See Chapter 1

Author's note: This is the final chapter of the story, I hope that you have enjoyed reading. Thanks so much for your reviews! It always makes me smile when I read a particular line you liked, a desperate situation where you simply _had_ to link through to the update (despite being at work) or a prediction on what might happen next.

Live long and prosper.

**Chapter 20: Logan George**

I watch my father and brother as they bait the lines for fishing. Neither of them will eat the fish they have caught, and if myself or my mother did not intervene they would throw the catch back into the sea. The entire task seems pointless, and even my father has suggested it to be cruel, but Mallin wanted to learn to fish, and so our father reasoned that it was a skill worth passing down.

When they have thrown out the lines, they sit on the bow of the yacht, side by side, thigh to thigh and gaze out at the sea. My father places an arm across the young man's shoulders and places a kiss to his forehead. He does this with all three of us, even now as we boarder adulthood, but Mallin is the only one who does not shrug away at the show of affection, but instead embraces it, and learns from it in a way I know he will display with his own children one day.

The two of them are so similar. They have a steady and calming presence about them, a strength of mind, and quiet confidence. However there is a peacefulness about Mallin that I do not believe my father possessed in his youth, as if my brother was born knowing exactly who he was, and what he will one day become.

I, on the other hand, have been told I take after my mother. I am not entirely sure why. I have no interest in Starfleet or passion for science. I have no desire for leadership, and little respect for authority. However my father insists I have inherited her bravery, persuasiveness and curiosity. Qualities my mother is quick to translate to carelessness, mouthy and trouble seeking. I think I must lie somewhere in-between.

"Chakotay, boys," my mother calls up from the galley in the yacht.

The smell of dinner has been wafting up from the kitchen below deck for twenty minutes now and I am famished. The other two must be equally hungry from the way they quickly swing their legs up from dangling down the side of the boat and walk swiftly across the decking. I position myself halfway down the steps, in order to pass plates of food up to my brother and father.

My dad frequently jokes that my mother was once an awful cook, and that she only learnt the art after she had children. I am not sure I believe him though. Nothing beats my mum's spicy bean hot pot. I cannot imagine her burning the endless number of dinners that the older man claims.

I see my sister's navigational charts are spread over the table below deck, and she has a frustrated look on her face. She is currently undergoing the same lessons of manual navigation which Mallin and I underwent when we were learning to sail. Although the ship board computer will do it all for us, my mother insists on showing us how to use charts, bearings and compasses to plan a route, maintaining that we should know the basics should technology ever fail us.

Eventually the girls come up and join us on deck where the dining table has been assembled. My parents share a bottle of wine, and sit comfortably together, with his arm laid casually across the back of the bench behind her, and her leaning contentedly into his embrace.

"George," that's not my name. I was named Logan as a baby, but my gift for getting into trouble as a young child earned me the title: "Curious George", eventually the 'curious' was dropped, but the nickname has stuck. I look at my mother anyway, "what have you been doing this afternoon?"

"Reading," I hold up a copy of Robinson Crusoe.

"You've caught the sun," she notes with a stern look towards my bear arms.

I glance at my bronze skin which has gone slightly red from exposure. Eventually the redness will go down, and I will tan like my father. Though she knows this, she still fusses over me, and encourages me to cover up for tomorrow's sailing. Grudgingly I agree with a nod, and the conversation moves on.

In years to come I will look back at my upbringing and remember this as a happy family. My older brother is my closest friend (although I will not admit this to him for another couple of years), and we are both protective and precious of our younger sister Taya. Our parents love the three of us more than I can yet understand, and their love for one another is unyielding and radiant.

We spent our childhood travelling with our parents for their various work postings, and teenage years on a farm where they retired to. Our holidays we spend on adventures, like this, exploring the Mediterranean seas in a yacht, visiting an alien planet, or trekking through the forests of my father's home world. There is always much excitement, and laughter, and chatter and of course love in our family.

After dinner Taya and I are left to clean up. Mallin joins us after he has pulled up the fishing lines, and we start a small water fight out of sight of our parents.

My brother and sister are both nimble boned and slender like our mother. Mallin is very tall, and I know many girls at our school consider him handsome due to his chiselled face and piercing eyes. Taya does not know she is beautiful; her complexion is a little lighter than our father's, as is her hair which she usually wears down, but her eyes are just as dark. I am the spitting image of Chakotay. My mother reminds me this with a whisper in my ear, as I cuddle up next to her on the sofa whilst we watch the newsvids in the evenings. I think she adores me even more for this fact, which makes up for the conflict caused by our similarities in personality.

As the sun starts to die away we hear music start to play above deck, and Mallin suggests we close the hatches and get the ship ready for the night.

My brother and I climb up to the stern to secure the ropes, collapsing down the dining table, and pulling up the canopy. Although I am aware of my parents mumbling a private conversation and laughing intermittently from the bow of the boat as I make the preparations, it is not until I have finished the task of throwing all the ropes into the cockpit locker I follow Mallin's gaze and join his observations of them.

The tempo of the music is upbeat and lively, and I witness my father twirl his wife, eliciting a small giggle from her as he pulls the woman back towards him and into his arms. They gaze into each other's eyes, and as the song changes, to a slower melody, they remain in each other's embrace; my mother's head eventually resting against his broad shoulders.

"I used to think they were sappy," Mallin muses.

I raise an incredulous eyebrow, "you don't anymore?"

He just smiles, that contented, knowing smile that he has held his entire life. "I wonder if I will ever find what they have."

Mallin will become my greatest confident in later life. I do not yet know this is the start of our lifelong, honest companionship. "It might be better," I suggest.

He grins, "maybe."

Our attention continues to focus on our parents. So much so that we hardly notice Taya come up to find out what is taking so long.

"Are they still fooling around?" Taya puts her hands on her hips, very much the imitation of the great Admiral Janeway.

"Seems that way," I note.

She rolls her eyes, but she too cannot help but stare in the same direction.

The three of us have been made aware our entire lives about the importance of our parents. Their seven year long journey through the delta quadrant on a ship called Voyager to return home. We are told they fought the Borg, met the first inhabitants of Earth, saved millions of Ocampans, encountered the Q and made more first contacts than any other Starfleet vessel to date.

Their accomplishments on their return were no less notable, our mother is one of the most decorated Admirals in Starfleet history, and our father is well known for the many books he has written about alien cultures. However neither of them speak about any of these accomplishments.

Instead our father tells us stories in riddles with meanings and lessons. Our mother confirms the facts of what we have been told, and concentrates her attention on the discoveries that were made by their crew. We must rely on their friends (largely B'Elanna and Tom) to tell us about our parents before we knew them as they are now.

B'Elanna insists our parents were in denial of their love for one another. Tom maintains they always knew. Either way the result of our family is the same.

I found out a few years ago they had both been married to other partners briefly before they started this family. Mallin already knew of course, in the same way he knows everything. I am not sure what fact had shocked me more. That our dad had once been married to Anika Hansen, or that Mallin was conceived before either marriage had ended.

A family conference had been called. Our parents had sat opposite on one sofa, and we on the other, as they invited us to ask questions.

It had been a very awkward fifteen minutes as we had sat there, none of us wanting to ask them anything, except my one question: "is it true?"

"Yes," my father had replied honestly, although rather stiffly.

In my thirties I will ask my mum about it again, and she will talk openly with me for a short time. But it is not something either of them are proud of, and therefore would not volunteer to entertain a conversation about it.

"Kathryn," my father's voice carries over the music and across the yacht, "I think our children are watching us."

I was not aware that we had yet been noticed, but now I see my mother glance across at the three young faces watching, and she smirks. "Let them," she says, before pulling her husband down towards her for a spectacularly passionate kiss.

We cannot look away fast enough. "Thank you," I shout out, my voice laced clearly with sarcasm. They chuckle whilst still locked to each other's mouths.

Mallin just shakes his head with an amused expression, "gin?" he suggests the card game to the two of us.

"Anything but carry on watching the two of them," Taya pulls a disgusted expression.

"Sounds like a good idea," I agree, as the three of us head below deck.

I am the last to head down the steps, and just before I descend I catch one last sight of the two of them. They are looking tenderly into each other's eyes. My mother traces my father's tattoo with her finger tips, and he is looking down at her with absolute and undisguised adoration. "I love you Chakotay," I hear her whisper.

He tucks a loose strand of hair behind her ear, "and I love you."

Mallin's sentiment from earlier is right. Watching them dance I realise we should all be so lucky to find for ourselves what they have found in each other.

The End


End file.
